Serenity: Leaves on the Wind
by Jack Whyte
Summary: My sequel to Serenity. When the crew take a job from two very untrustworthy people, they get caught in a plot that could see them deciding the fate of the 'verse. Hope you like it and please review.
1. The Core

**PROLOGUE**

A drop of deathly crimson blood fell from the corner of Mal's parched lips. It slowly floated towards the blood stained dirt, impacting in a small cloud of brown dust that rose into his face and clung to his eyelashes, making him blink furiously. Mal was on his hands and knees, his eyes wide yet they didn't seem to be taking anything in. Dazed, confused.

Another drop slid around his dry lips, slipping off the cracked edge. As it did so, he felt a short, sharp kick to the side of his ribs. He was thrown back by the force, falling on his back next to the pool of blood. _His _blood. The world spun and slowly readjusted itself as he lay flat.

He coughed, more blood pouring out in splashes. The kick had weakened his left rib. The fall had snapped it out of position. He arched his back up in pain, his teeth biting together hard.

As he pulled up his chest, his head was now on an angle that he could see what lay behind him. He saw Serenity, upside down from his point of view, sitting about one hundred meters from where he was, its front landing gear bent unnaturally inwards so that the nose of the ship was pointing down, crumpled into the ground from an impact Mal hadn't seen or simply couldn't remember.

Fire leapt up from its left wing. The hangar door was wide open and standing outside it were three armed men. Strangers to Mal. And they were wearing browncoats…

Mal instinctively reached for his gun only to find an empty holster.

He let his chest drop back down slowly. 'Son of a ─'

'_Mu gou_?' a figure standing over Mal said. 'Yes, she was a bit; my mother I mean. Terrible cook too. But she did teach me one thing before she was butchered by Reavers: never give your enemy the upper hand.' As the man said this, he swung Mal's gun above him, an evil smirk plastered on his face. He was flanked by two heavily armed and very large guards.

Mal didn't move. His mind was racing, but all he felt was pain in his body and rage towards the man in front of him. Mal had met him before and he was all manner of bad.

'Oh, I'm sorry, were you looking for this?' the man mocked surprise. 'Fantastic gun by the way. Hard to find one just quite like it anymore. Unification era, am I right?'

Mal didn't answer.

'Of course it is, isn't it Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds of the Independents?'

Mal grit his teeth. He hated this man more than he had ever hated anyone before. His rage was barely containable, but he could do nothing in his current state.

'I'm actually quite surprised, Malcolm,' the man continued. He lifted his foot and rested on Mal's broken ribs. Mal lurched in pain, but the man's foot kept him on the ground.

'Surprised,' he continued, 'but, then again, after all these years I couldn't possibly expect you to be the legend that you were in the War. The great Sergeant Reynolds who led his men through Serenity Valley only to be betrayed by his superiors and left there to die. But you still got out of that valley, didn't you Malcolm? A very impressive effort, outnumbered by the much larger forces of the Alliance.'

Mal grimaced as the foot dug into the side of his stomach, his broken rib scratching his left lung. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he used all of his will to keep his eyes open.

'But even great men become mortal in time. All these years of running from the Alliance, like a scared little child. What happened, Malcolm? You fought them, stood up to them, rebelled. And now you run from them?'

He pushed harder.

Mal screamed in pain. His chest felt like it was ripping itself apart.

'What happened, Malcolm? Maybe your reputation precedes you. After all, the Alliance aren't exactly the hardest people to allude. I should know, I've been doing it for years. I honestly thought you might be a help to my cause. A leader. Someone useful. Someone we need.'

The man released his foot.

'But I was obviously mistaken.'

Mal shook his head, keeping himself awake. 'Where… where's my crew?'

The man chuckled, kneeling down to Mal so that his face was level. 'Nasty blow to the head you got in the crash.' He tapped Mal's pistol on the top of his head. 'You really are in quite a daze aren't you?' Mal went to grab his gun back but the man cocked the weapon, pushing harder against Mal's head as a metallic device inside the pistol readied the next bullet in the chamber.

'Uh uh,' he said shaking his head. 'Never give your enemy the upper hand,' he repeated, tapping the gun's barrel on Mal's forehead with each word. 'It appears our roles are opposite since our last meeting, no?'

'What do you want with me?' Mal asked, frustrated. 'I'm assuming there's something or I wouldn't be breathin'.'

'Your time will come, Malcolm. Don't you worry about that.' The man stood up. 'But I believe that killing your enemy when there is much more they can do for you before death is a waste.'

'You really expect me to do anything for you, you sick sack of _pihua_,' Mal spat, sweat pouring down his face, into his eyes. He blinked it away.

The man smiled his evil smile. 'Have you heard of leverage, sergeant?'

Before Mal could answer, the guard on the man's right held up a radio and a distressed voice shouted out of the small speaker. A familiar voice.

'Kaylee…' Mal said, floored completely.

The man raised his hand and the guard turned the radio off.

'Let her go,' Mal threatened.

'Why would I do that? Like I said, Malcolm, leverage. This repeating myself really has to stop. I hate to think I'm talking and no one's listening. Are you listening?' He turned to the guard on his right, who nodded slowly.

'Give me my gun and we'll settle this right now,' Mal said, knowing full well he wasn't right to stand let alone fight. But Kaylee was in trouble…

'I'm afraid that is not a very smart option for me, Malcolm.'

'So it's a fair fight you want?'

'No,' said the man walking away. 'I think you misinterpreted my meaning. But consider this pay back. And what is it that you say… eh, enjoy?'

Then, he walked out of Mal's view, limping on his right leg, and the guard on the left stepped forward, kicking Mal in the ribs again. The force of the kick pushed Mal's broken rib into his lung. The point of the bone pierced the soft tissue of the lung like a knife cutting through butter. Blood pooled up in his mouth. He was in too much shock to scream.

The second guard laughed, staring him square in the face. 'Nighty night,' he said maniacally before slamming the butt of his rifle into Mal's face, breaking his nose in a cloud of blood and snapping bone.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

**CHAPTER ONE**

**THE CORE**

**Fourteen Days Earlier…**

As places went, this one wasn't too bad.

Mal looked around. Sure it was fancy. It had the look, and feel, of a well funded Alliance building stationed neatly amongst other well funded Alliance buildings that populated the Alliance planets furthest away from all the problems and strife of the outer rim, closer to the "true civilisation" of the core.

At least everyone looked happy. Smiling their fake smiles and laughing their fake laughs.

Mal looked around. No, he decided spontaneously. No. He hated this place.

This place was _pigu_.

'You'll have to teach me.'

Inara's eyes sparkled, found his. 'Teach you what?'

'There must be a way you manage to tolerate the annoying folk 'round these places you go to all the time you can teach me?' Mal asked, looking down at Inara who was hanging onto his arm lovingly.

Or at least, that's what it looked like to everyone around them.

Inara laughed loudly to add to the illusion that they were indeed a couple. Inara Serra was almost royalty in these circles and she had an image to keep: she had to look as if she were enjoying herself. That, and it looked better for the job if they blended in.

She leant in close to his ear and whispered, 'As I recall this was your idea so you can learn to tolerate. And to do so, quietly.'

'That last part optional?' Mal said with a sly smile.

'I happen to like this place, Mal.' She looked around at the women in beautiful dresses and the men in flattering suits, all dancing and talking amongst themselves. 'It reminds me…' she began almost sadly, 'it reminds me of home, of what life used to be like.'

'Before you fell in with all us folk of thievery and danger?'

Inara sighed. 'That's not what I meant.'

Mal laughed it off. 'I was just joking; I know what you meant plenty. Cheer up, 'Nara. We're at a party.'

The party, the one of the decade, Mal had been told by the very enthusiastic usher at the front door, was being held on Liann Jiun, in the main city. Held in the large hall beside the famous bioluminescent lake that was a popular tourist swimming spot, Mal had been told that the inter-planetary gathering was in celebration of Liann being named one of the cleanest and safest planets in the 'verse. The hall was filled with Liann government officials and many from other planets who had come to join in the celebrations, as well as local, high class socialites from the city businesses and such.

'All this celebratin' for bein' clean?' Mal said to himself, still confused as to the nature of the party.

'Some people take their hygiene somewhat more seriously than what you're used to Mal,' Inara teased.

'Don't seem to make much sense to me.'

'When does anything?'

Mal shot her a joking look, taking her cues, their exchange as delicate as a waltz. 'When I'm in a place that don't light candles for havin' more money than anyone else.'

'This has nothing to do with money.'

'To be clean you need money. To hold a party, you need money.'

'Mal, _we are_ here to get money,' Inara added.

'Yeah, but… that's for us.'

'So that makes it better?'

Mal nodded with a smile. 'Somewhat. Least we don't misuse it neither.'

'Well, I think that it's a very convivial party, regardless.'

'Yes. Very con… conviv… very shiny party,' he settled on. 'Don't see no cake though. Guess that'd be too messy.'

'The only thing that's dirty here is what we're doing.'

'Hey, it's not like we're stealing from the nicest of people. I hear this guy's a real monster.'

'Well thanks for clearing my doubts, Robin Hood.'

Mal looked confusedly down at her. 'Robin who now?'

He hadn't been to Liann Jiun before, but he still felt like he was an uneasy, a gazelle in a pack of lions. It wasn't the contrast between his lifestyle and the luxury of the third star orbiting the White Sun, the center of the 'verse, that made him feel so out of place, so different. For six months he had watched his back more than he usually did, almost expecting trouble. He was used to preparing for trouble, treading lightly. It came with the job. Knowing it was coming was different.

Being a wanted fugitive made you paranoid like that. They weren't just a little annoyance for the Alliance anymore, floating on the outskirts of civilised space causing almost unnoticeable trouble to get by. They had publically humiliated the Alliance with the buried truth that was the planet of Miranda, the planet where a secretive, black sector of the Alliance had un-wittingly created the feared, cannibalistic Reavers that plagued the 'verse and its inhabitants.

Mal didn't have the best history with the Alliance to begin with, fighting against them in the War. His decision to show the 'verse the truth had come with its consequences, but he had never contemplated the exact effect being hunted would be.

The Alliance was in political turmoil. The finger of blame was being pointed at them from all sides as the planets on the Rim, the planets not funded by Alliance money, began to accuse them of mass murder, leaving them out in the vulnerability of space where Reaver attacks were more frequent.

There was even talk of a second war. The truth, it seemed, had its price.

The negative reaction to the Miranda broadcast had made Mal, and his crew, public enemy number one to all the core planets, and heroes to the people on the Rim. It was funny how you could be hated and loved at the same time, a divine contrast.

The contractors of the job had ensured Mal that he would arrive on Liann without any trouble. Mal had his doubts, Liann being an Alliance planet. He had almost refused the job, but jobs were hard to come by lately, and the money was too good to say no.

Even so, they had taken a few extra precautions, such as using one of the ship's pods rather than the ship itself which was no doubt tagged for future arrivals.

As they walked around, arm in arm, Mal fidgeted with his pants.

'Itchy?' Inara asked.

'Too tight,' Mal responded. 'Do they look tight?'

Inara laughed. 'No more than they're meant to be.'

Mal left his pants be and lowered his voice into a mere whisper. 'Hey… you know that thing we were going to talk about…'

'I really don't think now's the time, Mal,' Inara said, blushing with cheeks as red as a fire.

'Well, I don't exactly got me a calendar with a list of dates for these sorts o' things so maybe now isn't so─'

Mal didn't manage to finish. Beside them, an old acquaintance of Inara glided past, her feet invisible behind her long dress tails, and the two briefly nodded politely. More fake niceties, Mal thought as he watched their exchange.

'This is why I don't venture to these parts often,' he muttered as the lady drifted to a more important person that being seen with would boost her social status.

'This being…'

'What was that ladies name?' Mal asked.

'Zariah. Ilesha Zariah,' Inara responded with barely hidden distain.

'And I'm bettin' you ain't too fond of Miss Zariah?'

Inara seemed to hesitate, stubbornly not wanting to prove his point. 'She's a very nice person,' she said simply.

'Not to you thought. Maybe to Mr. Monopoly over there.' Mal nodded over to the old man Zariah was talking to who had a comically folded over hair cut that was supposed to mask the bald spot at the back of his head. Mal could see it plain as day that Zariah was flirting with the old man, who looked very important and very wealthy. Inara chuckled warmly.

'All the fakeness,' Mal said. 'That's why I don't like the core. Lovely Zariah there will probably sweep him off his feet ─ figuratively 'course 'cause if she did for real he would no doubt break a hip ─ be taken to his house, wait till he falls victim to old age or, even the shock of seeing how bad his hair is next time he takes a look into a mirror. Then, money's all hers, ain't it? And you have to pretend you like her 'cause that's how it is 'round here.'

'You don't like it here because we're too nice?' Inara asked with raised eyebrows atop beautiful eyes that Mal could stare into all day, but never let her notice.

'You don't like someone where I'm from, you hit 'em. Simple. You don't bow and curtsy for 'em. No need to play pretend.'

'It's not playing pretend,' Inara said. 'It's tolerating people who you don't like to make for a peaceful world.'

'There's that word again and I still am to find out its use.'

Inara smiled at him, the warm lights casting yellow lines on her face, illuminating her beauty. 'Well, as much as you may disapprove of Ilesha trying to get money from that man, you shouldn't worry. I hear he's a real monster…'

Mal stopped walking and leant in close to Inara. 'Please tell me that's not─'

'Chairman Niyita, of the Ariel Parliament branch, the man we're stealing from, yes it is.'

'_Qing wa cao de liu mang_,' Mal swore. 'Us stealin' from him makes everything I just said a mite ironic, don't it?'

'Just a mite…'

'But he's so old and…'

'Monstrous,' Inara guessed.

'The hair cut yes, but… well he may not look it but this guy's bad. Don't you worry 'bout that. Looks can be deceiving.'

Inara laughed. 'They certainly can. If I didn't know better I'd say you were a perfect gentleman.'

'And I'm not?'

He looked down at her and she gave him an unconvinced smile.

'Suppose I'll just have to live with it. I stand by what I said about the fakeness though.'

'Why wouldn't you?' Inara asked sarcastically. 'Your evidence was very compelling…'

* * *

Fate had a funny way of working out. In a lot of ways, it is like a wild beast: people think they can tame it, bend it to their will, but in the end, it will act on its own, independent to its ignorant masters.

For Kaywinnet Lee Frye, or Kaylee as most called her, fate was a double edged sword. It had brought her the love of her life, but had filled him with clumsiness rather than grace. It was a strange feeling to want to be with someone and to want to slap them at the same time for being so moronic in their decisions.

Simon Tam was that kind of guy though. Handsome, polite and brave, yet stubborn and as subtly poor in conversation as a sledgehammer is when taking down a building.

She had tried to tame the wild beast. For a few months after the Miranda incident she had labelled him under the old-fashioned "boyfriend" title. It had gone well, even though it hadn't lasted long. For the first time, she felt like she had belonged with someone.

But fate worked on its own, and nothing she could do could alter it.

'This is a waste o' time.'

Jayne Cobb's gruff voice pulled Kaylee out of her daze and in a moment she realised she had been staring at Simon for too long. She diverted her eyes quickly, and said something to disguise her embarrassment.

'What is?'

Jayne angrily thrust his fork into the cheap, cardboard-thin steak on his plate as he swallowed down the last mouthful. 'This "steak-out"… pardon the pan.'

'The pun,' Simon corrected, holding, but not drinking, his glass of beer.

'No thanks, I'm eating.'

Kaylee's cheeks brightened back to their normal colour as she laughed. Simon and Jayne were as opposite as you could find. The doctor and the mercenary.

'Cap'n seems to think otherwise,' she said sweetly, a cheerful bounce in every word she spoke. 'I don't blame 'im really. He's been a mite suspicious of everyone lately. Well… more so than is usual.'

Simon looked up at her. 'He is a criminal. I mean, he has reason to be suspicious, right?'

While Mal and Inara were inside the town hall, which sat neat and tidy just across the road from the little bar Kaylee, Simon and Jayne were occupying, the three of them were making sure the Liann Jiun police didn't show up at the party as per Mal's instructions. If they did, they were to call Mal and notify him.

'Don't get all noble on us, Doctor "I-was-brought-up-with-coin",' Jayne spat indignantly, food still in his mouth yet less so after his sentence. 'You haven't exactly been an angel on all our little escapad's. Remember Ariel? Hm? You were all kinds of criminal there.'

'Escapade,' Simon corrected again, deadpan. 'And, you're right Jayne I was. But I did it for the right reason. At least, what I thought was the right reason. I just hope what Mal did was for the right reason and not just to annoy the Alliance. I wouldn't doubt that what we did on Miranda has made it impossible to lose our anonymity.'

Jayne looked down at the doctor. 'Where're going with all this _gong niu pihua_.'

'I'm just saying,' Simon persisted, 'I wouldn't be surprised that after Miranda the Alliance weren't looking for revenge.'

'Cap'n hasn't said nothin' 'bout bein' chased by the Alliance no more than we're used to.'

'Well, I hate to say I have reason to doubt the captain…'

Kaylee scowled at Simon. She didn't like him talking bad about Mal.

'Yeah, well I got good reason to doubt this ruttin' plan of sittin' on our asses and eating backwater grub.'

'You would rather go in and blow the place to hell?'

'Well, actually─'

Simon stopped him and shook his head. 'Rhetorical.'

Kaylee looked around. She liked to see how other people lived. A lot of her life had been spent on her own back-water planet on her daddy's farm that worlds, especially world's on the core like Liann, made her eyes light up with wonder.

On the Rim, you would see people riding their horses through a dusty old town. Here, she had seen about two horse-drawn hover-carriages ride past the large bar window. She had always wanted to ride in a hover-carriage, but time and money never seemed to allow.

When Jayne had finished his steak, he no longer had anything to fill his mouth and keep him busy.

'This is _pigu_,' he exclaimed. 'We should be in there busting open that Chairman's room, not keeping a look out for the feds.'

Abruptly, Jayne pushed away from the low table, causing Simon to jump. 'I'm goin' to get some fresh air.' Before anyone could stop him, he was out the door, standing in the light of a tall street lamp.

Fate had a funny way of working out. With Jayne gone, the tension that had been buried between Kaylee and Simon reared its head, and all they could do was look at each other awkwardly.

Simon, subtle as a sledgehammer, said, 'Your hair looks nice tonight.'

Kaylee held back her natural smile and just nodded. 'Thank you.'

'Not that it doesn't normally,' he blurted out, his mouth moving independently of his brain. 'I mean, with all the grease in the engine room, I wouldn't blame you if it did look bad, but…'

Kaylee dropped her head and looked away.

Simon stared at the back of her head for a moment, mouth still open but clumsy words no longer pouring out. He closed his mouth, looked ahead through the long length of glass at the big town hall where the party was going on, and took a big gulp of his beer.

Kaylee sighed. She prayed that Mal and Inara would hurry.

* * *

In the higher levels of the hall, everything was just as fancy as down where everyone continued to dance to the classical music which endlessly recycled to a beat that Mal didn't understand.

There wasn't a lot Mal understood about his place. Why was there flower in the bathroom? Why were there five portraits of Chairman Niyita running along the wall beside the stair case when clearly one was sufficient? Why was there, and only God knew, a 100 meter long hallway that lead to one room?

A lot of money made people do strange things.

'Which room is his office?' Inara asked in a whisper.

'Just look for the gold encrusted door-knob.'

Inara ignored him, turning all her attention to finding the door as they walked slowly down the long hall. She hoped that there was a door at the seemingly unattainable ending. It was not in her best interest to meander around the private areas of the town hall longer than they had to.

Mal was momentarily deflated when she said nothing. It wasn't as much fun when the beautiful fish took the bait.

The music became fainter as they made their journey further. The light began to fade to almost complete blackness.

'Is that a door up ahead?' she asked.

'Can't be certain,' Mal replied after inspecting the distance. 'Where are the lights in this place?'

'No one's meant to be here at this hour.'

'There a switch or somethin'?'

'No. Voice activation,' Inara said matter-of-factly. 'This isn't the 24th Century, Mal.'

As she walked ahead, feeling her way rather than seeing, he mouthed her words childishly behind her.

'What exactly are we looking for when we find this room?' Inara asked.

_Good question, _Mal thought. 'I'll know it when I see it,' he responded with an unfounded firmness.

'That's promising.'

'You need to learn to trust my intuition more, 'Nara,' Mal said.

_Bang! _A noise. They both stopped.

'What was that?' Inara asked in a hurried whisper.

Mal didn't reply. She spun around in the darkness, searching for him.

'Mal?'

'Uh-huh?' he said, reserved.

'You walked into that table didn't you?'

'Uh-huh,' he breathed out, grasping his leg. 'What is that, made of a stone? I feel like I got hit by a transport.'

She shook her head disapprovingly, kept walking forward. 'Spoke too soon about your intuition I assume?'

'It works better in the daylight.'

'I would hope.'

They continued for less than a minute, treading carefully, Mal more so than Inara, looking for the door to Niyita's private office. Eventually, they found it, a squat, antique wooden door with gold-coloured paint trimmings.

When Mal saw this colour, he turned confidently to Inara and gave her an overtly triumphant look, to which she rolled her eyes.

'You said the door knob.'

'I was right about the gold though.'

She ignored him, dug into her dress pocket and pulled out what looked like a plastic card, about the size of her palm.

'What's that?'

She didn't answer, instead swiped the card through the small metallic recess that jutted out like teeth from beside the handle. The door beeped politely, and Inara pulled the door open successfully. Light flooded out, catching them both off guard, their eyes adjusted to the shadows.

'How'd… how did you…' Mal stammered.

Inara shrugged her shoulders. 'I stole it off Niyita earlier.'

She walked inside the office calmly, leaving Mal behind her, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

'You pick-pocketed him?' was all he managed to say.

'Don't sound so surprised, Mal. I'm not the helpless girl.'

Mal walked into the office, still surprised. His mouth agape, he tried to say something, but he decided against it. Instead he made himself busy, looked around.

The office wasn't small, but it wasn't large either. Making up for the relatively small space were the most expensive looking furniture Mal had ever seen. The mahogany desk in the center shone pristine in the yellow light of the lamp which sat on top of it. A tall book case took up the entire east wall, books leaving no space in the rows of shelves. The ground was a thick, cream tinted carpet that Mal could feel, even through his boots, the soft, almost spider thin fibres that would have taken one hundred off-world slaves one hundred hours to thread.

Mal could admire hard work.

He moved his foot through the tangle of cream thread. 'This carpets all manner of soft.'

'Is that what you were talking about when you said you would know what we were looking for when you saw it?' Inara asked as she stood admiring the wall-size glass window that serenaded behind the mahogany desk. It looked out over the bioluminescent lake, and the blue, surreal glow of the water illuminated her face from even two stories up.

'I'll find it,' he assured her, moving over to the desk.

The contractors had told Mal over the wave that they desired personal effects of Niyita. When he asked what those effects were exactly, the contractor, whose face was distorted by interference, had cryptically diverted answering. Mal knew better than to push him further.

Everything the contractor had said to Mal had been cryptic, like it was his job to be polite, yet non-precise. The effects Mal was looking for was described to him as looking "important" being in the same place as the secondary objective.

Interestingly, as a side note, almost as if it were less important which was a new concept to Mal, a small sum of money was also to be stolen: the secondary objective. Part of the money would go towards paying for the job.

As Mal rummaged through the Chairman's desk, Inara observed him with crossed arms and a seemingly disinterested demeanour.

'So how were you planning on getting in here?'

He stopped what he was turning, looked over his shoulder. 'Pardon?'

'If I hadn't have stolen the key card to get in here, what was your plan?'

Mal stared at her and then quickly avoided her eye contact. 'You know, I was just gonna… break it. The door… I would have broken the door.'

Inara smirked, suppressing a laugh.

'What?'

'Nothing, nothing,' she said with a wide smile and deviant eyes. 'You need me more often.'

Mal chuckled, went back to his searching. He didn't see it, but Inara began to blush, realising what she had said and how Mal could have interpreted it.

'On jobs,' she added quickly, suspiciously. 'On jobs like this.'

Mal looked over his shoulder again. He smiled weakly, slightly confused, and again returned again to his business.

She cursed herself silently, and began to wander around the room in a helpless effort to avoid burning suspicion from Mal.

'Found anything?' she asked after an entire circle of the desk.

Mal didn't answer. Instead, he hurried over to the book case, careful of the time they were spending in the restricted office.

Inara kept walking around. As she walked past the desk, brushing the side of the top of it, she felt a loose board creak under foot and met Mal's eyes as he heard it too.

'Ha ha,' he exclaimed rushing hastily over to her. 'Should've guessed the old, "under the loose board", trick.'

'That a favourite of yours?'

Mal got down on one knee, pulled out a short blade. 'Wouldn't be a trick if I told you.'

He stabbed the knife into the carpet, cut a square out of the rich, elegant material, tore the last rib of the square off of the body and tossed it aside, revealing the wooden floorboards beneath. He knocked on one of them. It sounded solid. The one beside it however gave an acoustic response that indicated there was an empty space underneath.

He looked up at Inara with a smile which she mirrored. For a moment, he felt like he had stared too long, and quickly looked back down at the board.

Digging the blade into the small gap between the hollow board and the adjacent one, Mal used the knife like a lever, pulling the board out of place in a moment. In its place, was a shallow hole which housed a bank chip with hundreds of thousands of credits, as well as an unmarked manila envelope.

Mal pulled them both out.

'Is that what we're here for?' Inara looked pointedly at the paper in Mal's hand. 'An… an envelope?'

'I'm not rightly sure as to why myself,' Mal admitted, examining every inch of the envelope as if there was some hidden meaning why the contractors would want it. He could feel some papers inside but didn't have time to look at them.

'This shiny money makes all manner of sense though,' he said with a wide grin as he handed her the bank chip.

As Mal replaced the board and the square of carpet like puzzle pieces, Inara looked at the chip. 'This feels nice. Kind of exciting.'

'Stealing?'

'Not when you say it like that,' she added quickly.

'Don't get too used to it, 'Nara. I need least one good person on my boat. Bad luck otherwise.'

Mal nodded to the door and they both made their way to exit.

_Bang! _A noise beyond the door. They both stopped, exchanged knowing looks.

'_Zao gao,_' Mal breathed, instinctually grasping Inara's hand and leading her back into the room.

Inara reported, 'I heard voices.'

Mal looked around, looked for an escape.

'What do we do?'

'I'm thinking.'

'Care to think faster.'

'I care to but doin's a mite harder than that.'

The voices were audible now, even from the middle of the office. There wasn't much time.

* * *

The two guards gently, rather than forcefully, opened the door to Niyita's office. This slow entrance and the consistency of their footsteps before they had entered suggested that they didn't seem to be in a rush, and therefore looking for any intruders.

When they found Mal, on top of Inara who was resting on Chairman Niyita's desk, their calm turned into sudden panic. They definitely hadn't been expecting to be seeing anyone in the office because their shocked reactions were as if they had seen a ghost.

Shining their flashlights right into Inara's face, their guns aimed in her and Mal's direction, they quickly spouted multiple questions at the two in a frightened slur.

'Who are you?' one said.

'What are you doing here?' asked the other.

Mal stopped kissing Inara, unlocked his lips from hers and turned around, arms in the air. 'Whoa, whoa, don't shoot! I have money!'

Behind him, Inara fixed her tussled hair that Mal had dug his fingers into. 'Please, we didn't do anything wrong.'

The two guards gave each other a glance, before holstering their weapons and slowing the shaking of their hands. The tall one took the lead. 'Excuse us,' he said with a puffed out chest and sudden confidence. 'But you're not meant to be in here. This is a private area.'

'Look, I'm so sorry,' Mal said, walking over to the tall guard. 'We were just wandering down the hall and we saw the door open…'

'That's fine, sir. If we could just accompany you back to the party down stairs.'

'Yes. Of course.'

Inara stood up from the desk, strolled over beside Mal. She looked up at him and said, 'Now?'

Mal nodded calmly. 'Now.'

'Now what?' the shorter guard asked, confused.

Without an answer for the short guard, and with no warning for the other, Mal grabbed the tall guard by the shoulder and quickly slammed his head in to the guards own.

'Ow,' he exclaimed recoiling in pain. 'That hurt me more than him.'

The short guard didn't move fast enough, too stunned by what had happened. Before he could reach for his weapon, Inara quickly round house kicked him to the side of the head, her long expensive heels pounding his skull hard. He span around and hit the ground, collapsing in a heap.

The tall guard shook his head clear after the head butt and went for his gun. Mal kicked out with his foot and hit the guards arm away from his holster. He ran in quickly, put a quick jab into the guard's stomach before grabbing his arm as it came in for a punch, twisted it into an unnatural angle. Using the arm, he span the guard around and grabbed his head in a tight lock from behind.

In ten seconds, the tall guard was unconscious, down in a forced slumber, and Mal released his neck to let him sleep it off next to his friend.

'Will he be okay?' Inara asked, concerned about Mal's method.

Mal nodded. 'Yeah. Just knocked him out. He'll be fine in a couple of minutes.'

'I'd hate to think you've done that before.'

'I've sure done a lot worse.'

Inara didn't know what to say. She knew he had, but she never liked to imagine it for herself. The past was better left in the past.

'Are you okay?' he asked, filling the silence.

Inara nodded, smiled. 'Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Apart from you destroying my hair.'

Mal laughed. 'Thought I should add some authenticity.'

'I'm still in a bit of shock. Next time your plan is for us to… do that… give me a few days warning.'

'Didn't need that last time,' Mal murmured.

Inara stared at him neutrally.

Mal quickly changed the subject, filling the subject away for later discussion. 'C'mon. We have to go. Won't be long till someone starts wonderin' where theses two've gone.'

He hopped over to the door, holding out his hand for Inara to follow. As she made her way over, there was a fuzzy noise that emitted from one of the guards, an electronic scream. Mal looked over. It was coming from the radio attached to the tall guards belt.

'_Orwell… Orwell do you copy_?' the voice on the other buzzed. '_Have you sweeped sector 2_?'

'_Pihua,_' Mal breathed. 'If they don't get an answer…'

'They'll send someone looking for him,' Inara finished. 'That didn't take them long.'

'No it certainly didn't.'

'_Orwell, respond._ _Dammit, Orwell's gone dark in sector 2…_'

Inara looked at him with concern, asking for answers with her big ovals of soft brown eyes.

'I can't knock everyone out,' he admitted.

'Well we have to go then.'

'What if we get cut off in the hall?'

'We won't.'

'I can't risk it, 'Nara. I can't…'

'You can't risk what?' she interrupted.

Mal looked at her honestly. 'If they find us Inara, I don't know what they will do. The Alliance I mean. I can't let that happen to you.'

Inara was confused. 'What are you talking about, Mal?'

It had worked out that Mal had never gotten around to telling the crew about their status as wanted fugitives. He didn't know why, he was usually honest around those he considered, but never called aloud, family. Maybe it was the guilt that he had put them in the mess, but he, and maybe River for he never knew what she knew with that big brain of hers, were the only ones that knew.

Inara didn't get an answer. Instead, she watched Mal approach the window as her brain made sense of what Mal had said, putting the pieces together. Now wasn't the time to talk about it.

'What are you thinking?' she asked. He had the look of a thinking man on his face, like a plan was being formulated.

'How far do you think the pool is from this building?' She came up beside him, looked through the window at the bioluminescent lake.

'No, Mal,' she said in disbelief. 'No. You can't be serious.'

The faint sound of voices echoed down the hallway. More were coming.

'See, they're all ready on their way. We ain't got much choice, 'Nara.'

'Well I choose against jumping out a second story window.'

'What they'll do to us is a lot worse than a shiny pool.'

She looked back at him, found the truth in his face.

'We can make it,' he assured her. 'We can.'

He pleaded with his eyes for her to do it, and what he had said before, about wanting to keep her safe and out of danger, made her believe that he wouldn't risk her safety if he didn't know it was for the right reasons, even if those reasons weren't clear to her.

She sighed deeply and said rather weakly, 'Okay.'

'Good, we don't have much time.' He brought her over to the window. He opened it, a cool wind breathing onto his face. 'You ready?'

'As I'll ever be.'

'Just remember,' he said opening the window. 'It's not the fall that kills you.'

'I'll never forgive you for this.'

'I don't doubt it.'

Footsteps were audible from the other side of the door. These footsteps were hurried ones. The two of them needed to be out of that room.

Inara jumped first, flying through the air towards the bright blue pool of water, arcing out and down. She pulled her arms into her sides and straightened out her legs as she hit the surface, bracing for the impact that was in no way soft.

As soon as she was under the blanket of water, Mal got ready at the window sill. 'She didn't scream, so you can't,' he told himself. 'Okay… you can do this. Just a little jump.'

It had seemed like a good idea in his head at least.

He forced himself to jump as the door creaked open behind him, his mind and fear of the consequences of staying perched on the window sill overcoming his reluctant limbs.

'_Zao gao, zao gao, zao gao!_' he exclaimed as he flew as gracefully as a dodo.

The air was cold, but the water was colder. The force of hitting it was like hitting barely malleable concrete. He felt the impact in every inch of his body, like the pain had been transferred up his legs and to his torso by a cruel domino effect. He surfaced from the eerie quiet of the underwater world, gasping for air, struggling to stay afloat as the bones in his calves and thighs felt like they had been crushed into pieces.

'Oh, _pihua_ that's cold!' he observed less than calmly.

Beside him, floating in her long gown, Inara looked at him about as impressed as a cat in a dog kennel. 'I will _never_ forgive you for this,' she repeated.

The water shone with an alien blue tinge, and felt heavy, closer to sludge than water, with bits of algae-like clumps making up for half of the famous lake's volume.

They swam in unison to the shore furthest away from the town hall they had jumped from. There weren't many people in this part of the city at close to midnight.

Mal walked out of the lake as Inara slumped herself down by the edge. 'Hey, you've got a bit of shiny in your hair.' He picked it out, tossed the blue algae aside.

'Thank you,' Inara grunted. 'So what now, captain?'

Mal stood with his hands on his hips. 'Well, I could do with a hot shower.'

* * *

They would eventually find Jayne sulking outside the bar and told him they were ready to get off-world. They had had enough of this planet.

In five minutes they would be in the shuttle parked behind the bar and after a steady skyward flight would break atmo and dock Serenity, which was safely floating just outside Liann Jiun's scanners.

When the crew were far away from Liann Jiun, on their way to deliver the package that they stole from Niyita, the party would finish, the guests would leave, and the Chairman himself would go into his room at the end of the long corridor on the second level of the hall. He would almost at once notice the torn out square in his carpet and investigate his hiding spot to find the small sum of money, but more importantly, his envelope, gone.

He could not tell anyone of this strange disappearance, and, while he was frustrated that it had been stolen, he was more thankful that he had not been killed for his knowledge.

Without the evidence though, that knowledge had no foundation, and he wouldn't be much trouble to whoever wanted that information gone from the 'verse.


	2. Grab a Bite To Eat, Then a Gun

My few, very appreciated, fans may notice that I may be repeating myself slightly with this chapter. Don't worry, you're not going crazy. I have decided to re-boot this story as I didn't feel I had written my last few chapters as well as I could have and had left some key parts out that will effect later chapters. While the story of this chapter is old, the content is slightly modified and I think (and hope) better. So even if you have read this before, go ahead and read it again to spot the changes that will be important in later chapters. If you haven't read it before, please do, and I hope you enjoy it. Also, if you have read my past chapters, or even if you are new to this story, please go back to CHAPTER ONE, as everything in that chapter, apart from the prologue, is new and serves as the new beginning to this story.

Again, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

**GRAB A BITE TO EAT, THEN A GUN**

Back on Earth that was, certain landmasses would be plunged into darkness for weeks on end. Days suspended in black, away from the rest of the world, clocks rendered useless as time was no longer a factor. There was no rising and setting sun to follow after all.

Down on Persephone, the day was just beginning, the sun behind the planet casting a blinding light around the giant sphere floating in space. But above the planet's atmosphere, in the nothingness of space above, Serenity also floated in space, in the same perpetual night much like some landmasses had back on Earth.

Sitting alone behind the glowing console on the bridge of the Firefly-class transport ship was River Tam. Her sharp, piercing eyes illuminated in the blue of the console looked through the windscreen of the ship known as Serenity, surveying Persephone from above like a God. Holding the steering yoke in one hand, she finessed the ship in way that came naturally to her.

She was young, younger than most pilots. Prettier too, with a naturally sanguine face and smooth, gentle features. Yet no amount of training could give her could give her any more knowledge or skill than she already had.

Comfortably sitting with her legs crossed, River tapped the touch-screen next to her with her spare hand, not dropping her gaze on the windscreen. The ship slowed as the controls were taken off her, the auto-pilot engaging, guiding the floating mass of metal towards Persephone with a slow and gentle push of the thrusters.

Folding the steering yoke into the console she sat back letting her arms sit in her lap. From behind the dirty glass of the windscreen, even though they were moving very quickly, Persephone didn't seem to be getting any closer.

River span in her pilot's chair, the surroundings of the bridge blurring as she turned. She was about eighteen and even though she was extremely smart, she was still quite childish in a playful sort of way. Even so, the five toy dinosaurs sitting behind the touch-screen on the console were not hers.

Putting out a hand, River stopped the chair spinning and looked down on one of the dinosaurs, a blue T-Rex. She tipped her head to one side curiously, her eyes examining every inch of the toys plastic skin as if it was real and she was an archaeologist.

Reaching out with one hand, she touched the dinosaur lightly with her index finger and slowly ran it down its neck. The plastic scales massaged the creases of her finger. She felt a warm feeling shoot up her wrist, like she was touching a real person and sharing their warmth.

Holding her finger at the plastic body of the dinosaur, she whispered one word to herself: 'Wash.'

'Everything okay up here, little one?'

River snapped to look around, releasing her touch of the dinosaur sharply and spinning to meet the voice as if she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.

Standing in the doorway leading to the bridge was Captain Malcolm Reynolds. He was leaning casually in the frame, his arms crossed. He stood in the tall metal doorway with a certain importance about him that he didn't bring on knowingly and as River stared at him with wide eyes, she looked him up and down, studying him the same way she had done to the dinosaur. Always watching, always thinking.

Stepping forward, Mal smiled warmly. 'Sorry if I startled you.'

'You didn't startle me,' River said mystically, her eyes distant. 'I knew you were coming, I could feel your heat and hear your footsteps.'

River span back around to face the console and Mal leant on the back of her chair, resting his chin sweetly on her head. 'How far from Persephone are we?'

'A few hundred-thousand feet.'

Mal paused. He was used to Rivers strange way of communicating. It wasn't her fault after all. From what Simon had told him, she had been a "gifted" child. Not only clever, but able to read peoples thoughts and the energy of objects. Because of this, River's brain had been tampered with by the Alliance, the 'verses government. A shadier part of the Alliance, not unlike the one that had been responsible for Miranda, had kid-napped her and tampered with her head, making her different. They had trained her to use her abilities to fight and God knew what else. If her brother Simon hadn't rescued her from their clutches, then she might have been out there in the 'verse, acting as the Alliance's own personal assassin.

Mal did not hold to that, and was glad she was on his crew in a more placid and less bloody profession.

River could sense him thinking about her and heard his next words before they exited his mouth, creating an echo with one meaning in her fragile head.

'Time-wise not distance, darlin',' Mal said.

Darlin'. River loved it when the captain called her that. It made her feel like she was part of something. She hadn't been part of anything before, well, not anything normal. She smiled.

'We should be landing on Persephone in about an hour. It will be a bumpy ride. We're missing our rear stabiliser.'

'Thought we was missing our forward stabiliser.'

'Missing that too.'

'Oh,' Mal said raising his eyebrows. 'How bumpy did you say this ride would be?'

River smiled again. 'Did you talk to Kaylee about the spark in the engine core?'

'That I did. Nothing she couldn't fix.'

'It hasn't happened yet,' River whispered. 'But it will.'

'Well, she's on the lookout,' Mal assured her.

'I got a lock on Ranson and Bing, like you asked. They're down on the ground, in the shack east of Badger's old hideout.'

Ranson and Bing weren't Mal's contractors. They weren't bright enough for that. They were just the middle men, the people the actual contractors used to communicate to Mal.

After their last meeting, where they had planned the job on the core and which, admittedly, hadn't gone too well, Mal had asked River to track them using their hand-held comm. signals that were tracked by Alliance satellites. River, who had a habit of picking up useful talents because of her abilities, was able to use these satellites through Serenity's screens at the right distance. One second in a room full of Alliance engineers and she knew exactly the satellites to hack into and how to hack into them remotely.

'Were they hard to track?' Mal asked.

'Not once we were in range. Ranson's big and fat and Bing's always high on illegal narcotics. They both move pretty slow and don't blur the monitor.'

'That's true. They always were a colourful pair.'

River looked into Mal, not just at, and said, 'That envelope. It's hot. The one from Liann Jiun.'

Mal was perplexed. 'Come again, little one?'

'I saw it in the kitchen. It's hot to touch. Burning hot. I don't like it.'

Mal knew decidedly that it was the opposite of hot after his swim on Liann, but also knew better than to question River when she said something that only made sense to her. Neither of them spoke for a moment and a quietness hung in the air between them. River looked guilty even though she hadn't done anything wrong. But Mal had heard.

Finally he said, 'Anything you want to talk about, little one?'

'I could talk about a lot of things,' River said, speaking quickly, trying to ignore the question. 'Many irrelevant, some more so than others. Words are air and air is particles, invisible, like a ghost.'

'Okay then. As always I'll just pretend to understand what you just said.' Mal smiled jokingly as he said this in a cheek that came as naturally as his stance. But River had become serious, her eyes busy on the emptiness of space outside.

'I'll be in the hold if you need me.' Mal put his hand on Rivers shoulder for a brief second before heading back out the door.

'Leaf on the wind.' Mal stopped dead in his tracks as River spoke, his face dropping.

'Flying with the breeze,' she continued, 'not knowing where it's going but enjoying the ride all the same, all the way to the end. Just a simple, insignificant leaf.'

Mal paused in the doorway. His back to River, River's back to his. Then he began walking again. 'Give me a whistle when we're about to land,' he said simply, disappearing down the stairs connecting the bridge to the forward corridor of Serenity.

As his footsteps turned into echoes, echoes that reverberated in her head, River touched the dinosaur's neck again, closing her eyes tightly.

Voices, loud, too loud. She hated them. Get out, she told them. No… no!

Suddenly, she struck the toy with the back of her hand, sending it flying across the room with a clatter.

'Wash,' she whispered sadly to herself. 'Wash…'

* * *

The picture was dirty, faded with age and ripped at the sides; a small stain of a recent and sad tear ran diagonally down from the top right corner. It had a bronze tinge to it, one that highlighted the light colour of the man's hair. The man's smile was broad and his face kind. A bushy moustache sat above his smiling lips.

Zoe smiled back at him as she held the picture loosely in her hand. Her eyes were sad and watery, glistening in the bleak light of the bed-side light.

She had taken the picture ten years ago when she had first met Wash. "Hoban Washburn" Mal had said before he had introduced him to her on the bridge of Serenity. "A great pilot, recommended by eight people. They say he can fly a ship through a needle but since we just need him to get us through the 'verse, he'll do us just fine."

"I don't like him," she had said. She chuckled a little bit as she remembered her first impressions of him.

Zoe rubbed her thumb up and down on the rough surface of the photograph.

Old photos like the one of Wash were not common in the 'verse, having become redundant with the introduction of digital displays and the like. But on the outer planets, some old relics brought back from Earth that was were all they had.

_Pictures like these held more meaning anyway_, Zoe thought as she sat on the end of her bed.

In the background of the photo was Serenity, a tiny dot on the horizon, standing next to her was Mal, an even smaller speck.

Zoe Washburn had a long history with Captain Malcolm Reynolds, having fought with him in the War for Unification. Their relationship was deep and complicated. She had served under him as a corporal, fighting with the other Independents against the Alliance. But once they had lost the war, she had followed him still, to the outer reaches of the galaxy to try and keep going with life, away from the Alliance who now ruled the galaxy. It was a relationship that had confused and mystified her late husband, who had at times been jealous of their closeness. Sitting on her own now, she felt slightly guilty for that part of her marriage; guilty of her devotion to the captain that maybe, looking back on it, might have been too much for Wash.

She was the first mate on the ship though and that was part of her job. She was a tough fighter of a women and scary when she wanted to be, but still a kind soul under the rough exterior. Not now though. Not in the cosiness of her own cabin. Here, she was just Zoe.

Sighing, she flipped the picture around and looked at the back. Written in black pen in the center of the paper was simply: _RIP Wash_. The words were hard to read, faded like the image on the front, almost invisible in the low light of the room. But the words didn't lose their meaning in the bleakness of room.

Zoe rested the photo on her stomach and she took a moment in the silence of her bunk to just sit and be in peace.

Breaking the silence that had plagued the room, three short knocks came down to her bunk from upstairs.

'Come in,' Zoe said a little quietly, her throat rusty.

As the door at the top of the ladder leading down into her bunk from the forward corridor slid open, Zoe quickly pushed the picture under her pillow, for she was too proud for anyone, especially the captain to see it. She stood beside her bed and facing Mal, who was now standing on the bottom rung, hanging with one hand from the ladder.

'Sir,' she greeted, her hands behind her back formally.

'Hey there,' Mal said cheerfully. 'Was just on my way back from the bridge. River said we'll be landing in about an hour. Just thought I'd let you know.'

'Thank you. I forgot to ask; how was Liann?'

'Beautiful, just great. We broke into this old man's room, stole his money and an envelope the contractors wanted then, then I took a lovely swim.'

'Sounds like I missed some fun.'

'You betcha. Oh,' Mal caught himself as he went to go back up the ladder. 'Almost forgot. We're dealing through Ranson and Bing again so we'll most likely run into some unsavoury folk along the way looking to add to our unlucky streak of… well, unluckiness.'

'Can we trust them, sir?'

'No,' Mal said honestly. 'But they got us on and off Liann Jiun and with some mighty fine coin too. But just to be on the safe side you might want to grab a bite to eat and then a gun.'

'I always do, sir.' Zoe smiled weakly. Mal looked at her in the eyes.

'Zoe,' he said dropping from the ladder and walking over towards her. 'I know that things have been different 'round here and I know you're handling yourself real well considerin'.'

Zoe bent her head avoiding his eyes.

'But if you ever want to take a break, even if it's just for a day, you don't even have to ask.'

'Thank you, sir. But I like to keep busy.'

'Okay then. Just lettin' you know. If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me. I'm not just here for my looks.'

'If you were, sir, we'd be in a whole heap of trouble.'

Mal smiled. 'That we would.'

'I appreciate your help, Mal, and I know what you're meaning, but trust me when I say I'm fine.'

'Okay.' Mal walked back to the ladder. 'Meet me in the hangar in forty five minutes.'

'I'll see you there, sir.'

She watched him leave. And as soon as his feet had dissapeared upstairs, she fell back on her bed, and did her best to hold back an onslaught of tears that itched painfully at her eyes.

Mal climbed back up to the forward corridor, stepping off the ladder and sliding the door closed behind him.

He let out a deep sigh as he scratched his head. 'Gorram cheerful place this ship is.'

Turning around he came face to face with Jayne.

'Mal,' Jayne grunted.

'Jayne?' Mal muttered.

'What's all this I hear 'bout us goin' back to Ranson and Bing?'

'No, Jayne. This is not something I wish to discuss.'

'I ain't to happy 'bout it either.'

'The money's good, Jayne,' Mal said pushing past the broad and muscular Jayne. 'Thought you'd be happy 'bout that.'

'Would o' been more happy had we not ad to deal with those back birth _hun dan's _again_.'_

'Jayne, to get paid, we need to deliver the envelope to them. See where I'm goin' with this?'

'We've got the Gorram money. Just keep it all for ourselves, Mal. You know they'll cut us short.'

'Enemies is somethin' we have too much of Jayne and I don't plan on making more. And apart from that, we only have a bank chip. You wanna cash it in at an Alliance bank after Miranda, be my guest.'

'I don't feel good about this, Mal, I'm tellin' you.'

'You're dislikin' of the situation wouldn't have nothin' to do with the fact you humped them over a couple of years ago, now would it Jayne?' Mal entered the dining room with Jayne close behind him.

Jayne, the hired mercenary on board Serenity and had a certain way about him. Originally not the most trust worthy person ever, and perhaps still not, the man they called Jayne had a questionable past, working with criminals less honest than Mal and his crew. Mal trusted Ranson and Bing weren't the only people he had ever humped over in his life. But in their line of work, a brute like Jayne was necessary to stay alive and keep flying: two things Mal liked and wanted to keep around.

'No,' Jayne said trying to keep up with Mal, who was himself trying to avoid the conversation. 'My dislikin' of the situation might have somethin' to do with the fact that last time I humped them over, they vowed they'd hump me back.'

Mal stopped and turned to face Jayne. 'You really, _really_, need to be more careful on how you word those lovely sentences of yours.'

'This ain't funny, Mal!' Jayne exclaimed as Mal continued to walk with a chuckle.

'Relax, Jayne. I've planned for this in case things go bad. But everythin'll be fine. You know Ranson and Bing are more incompetent than a monkey with a gun.'

'Don't talk 'bout Jayne like that, cap'n.' Peering out from the engine room with a big bright smile on her face was Kaywinnet Lee Frye. If Mal was looking for cheerful, he had come to the right place.

'Well ain't that hi-sterical,' Jayne said sarcastically.

Mal walked up to the doorway to the engine room. Inside, the ships cylindrical core span rhythmically, surrounded by buzzing wires and shining lights.

'Kaylee,' Mal said, happy to be near the ships young mechanic, her happy disposition shining on his own. 'Just the person I wanted to see.'

'Whadda ya need, cap'n?' Her cheeks were red with kindness, shining past the oil and grime on her face.

'River seems to think there may have been a spark in the engine core or some such and wants you to check it out. I trust you will. And if she asks, you did it weeks ago. _Dong le ma_?'

'Crystal. I'll just grab my _monkey_ wrench.'

'Good girl.'

Kaylee walked towards the core looking cheekily over her shoulder at Jayne while Mal pushed past him again.

'Everyone's a ruttin' comedian…' Jayne breathed.

Heading away from the engine room, Mal took a sharp right and headed down to Serenity's lower decks.

Jayne hurried after him. 'Hang on a sec, Mal. What have you planned?'

'Well, I did happen to know about your history with dumb and dumber, so I got River to track their movements. Make sure we knew if they were getting weapons or some such.'

'Wait. You got the crazy girl to psychically track them?'

'No,' Mal said, passing the passenger quarters and the common area on the lower deck. 'I got her to track them using their phones like I told you last.'

'Oh… that'd make more sense.'

Mal smiled and walked into the infirmary where Simon Tam, River's older brother, was getting a very large needle ready. The doctor on Serenity, Simon was dressed significantly differently to everyone else on the ship: well groomed, well spoken. He looked like a rich kid on the wrong side of town and that was indeed what Mal had originally thought about him. Mal now looked at him with a quietly earned respect that had come from Simon's undying devotion to his young sister and the amount of times he had patched up the crew. _Mal's_ crew

'Doctor,' Mal greeted, letting Jayne walk into the small blue and white room. 'Would you be so kind as to give Jayne here a poke with your oversized needle there?'

'Only if you insist,' Simon said deadpan, tapping the end of the needle, making Jayne squirm uncomfortably. Simon seemed to take pleasure in Jayne's discomfort.

'Be gentle with him,' Mal said before heading out the door. 'He's a mite of emotional at the minute.'

'Ha, ha, ha,' Jayne said watching Mal leave. 'Give me the good stuff, doc. I don't wanna feel the bullets when things get interesting down on the ground.'

Mal left Jayne to get his hit of slow-working adrenaline and walked up the short stairs, stepping through the door at the end of them. Then the small claustrophobic space he had been in suddenly opened up into the large open space of the cargo bay.

Hanging from the roof was the Mule, the small hovercraft used by the crew when they needed to get around quickly on the ground. Jayne's work-out gear lay scattered beneath the stairs leading up to the walkways that lined the metal walls of the hangar. The walkway was shaped like a rectangular horse shoe, held up by strong support cables. It led to two doors on the east and west side of the hangar. These doors led to the two small shuttles that could be used to fly short distances, like from Serenity to Liann Jiun. At the south end of the walkways, an inclining stair case led back up to the ships forward corridor.

It was the doorway leading to the left hovercraft that Mal was heading towards.

Bounding up the stairway, his boots banged against the grated metal surface of the walkway. Turning the sharp corner, he walked fast until he was standing in front of the metal sliding doors. His hand hovered nervously over the door handle.

Taking a breath, he gripped the handle in his hand, and slid the door to the side with a shriek grinding of metal. The door connected him to the shuttle of Inara Serra, the ships last crew member.

Immediately, the rich smells of incense and candle smoke crept up his nostrils, instantly calming him. Matching the scents, the inside of the shuttle was draped in deep reds and gold's giving the room a relaxing and very royal feeling that didn't match the old, failing ship that was Serenity.

All these things─ the candles, the pillows that lay everywhere, the lush curtains─ were incidental. Inara had put them there because it was her job to make her clients feel relaxed, feel comfortable, because Inara Serra was what was known as a companion. She acted as the ships representative: having a respected companion on the ship made it easier to land on the central planets and get jobs done. Or, it had before Miranda.

The majesty of the room, and Inara herself, nestled on top of her royal bed sheets with her legs crossed and a cup of tea, made Mal feel like a child again, gave him a breath of youthful vibrance that almost completely dulled out his nervous anticipation. Almost.

As with the shuttle, Inara was wearing an elegant red dress that sat over one shoulder. She wore glamorous jewellery and her hair was done up in a complex array of patterns, but Mal, as well as those who interacted with her, knew she wasn't as arrogant or shallow as you would expect from someone in her position.

Mal poked his head through the doorway, peering into the shuttle. 'Knock knock.'

'_Qing jin_. See, was that so hard?' Inara asked jokingly, smiling warmly as Mal entered.

'The knocking? Well, after all these years I thought I'd give something new a try.'

Mal stood at the end of Inara's bed as she sipped her tea. A loose drape swung in front of his face and he clumsily moved it aside.

'I'm not interrupting anything am I?' he asked looking around.

'Not at all. I'm just having some quiet time.'

'You clean up well after out little dip?'

'I don't think I've ever had a longer bath,' she admitted. 'I had my second one today preparing for─'

'Your client,' Mal finished, a little too quickly, as if he didn't want to know.

'Yes,' Inara said simply.

'Well… you certainly look prepared.'

Mal had meant it as a complement, but it hadn't exactly come out that way.

He continued quickly, 'That's actually what I came to talk to you about. Our little pilot says we'll be on Persephone within the hour. Once we break atmo, you can fly to… your client.'

'Thank you for letting me know.'

'You ain't but a skip and a jump from where I was headin' anyway.'

Inara nodded.

Mal fell silent.

'Mal,' she began slowly. 'I've been meaning to talk to you about what you said on Liann.'

Mal fidgeted. She had figured his secret out for herself. 'Not now, 'Nara. Please.'

'I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just… I know what you're doing. About the Alliance and what you said. I know why you haven't told the crew yet and I just want you to know: I'll keep your secret. Just, promise me you'll keep us safe.'

Mal looked sad, as if the subject brought him physical pain. 'Inara. If I can promise one thing to you, ever, as long as I'm breathin', I will always, always keep my crew safe.'

Inara looked into his words, heard the honesty in them and felt glad.

'Thank you, Mal.'

He went to leave, but decided against it, turned around again. 'There was something else I was meaning to talk to you 'bout,' he said quickly. 'That… thing.'

Mal paused. He knew this had been coming, but he still hadn't prepared. How could he?

And then, in perfect harmony, 'About the other night…'

'You first,' Mal said, the curtain falling back in his face. He pushed it aside in frustration.

'Well, the other night… about _that kiss_. Not the one on Liann. The um… well, the real one. Well, I guess I just wanted to make sure that we both know where we stand about it.'

'Sure.' Mal manoeuvred his head so it was in front of the curtain. 'No, yeah, exactly. And where, where is that exactly?' he stammered.

'I'm sure you feel the same… but, I just want to make sure…'

Mal held his breath.

'It was a one-time thing.'

Mal's heart fell, same as the hindering curtain, same as he had from the window on Liann. He had been hit in the gut twice now. First Inara discovering his secret, the secret about being constantly sought by the Alliance, and now, now this.

But Mal was a proud man and he didn't dare his true feelings.

'Oh yeah,' he said with haste, the words rushing out before he could think. 'Yeah, exactly what I was going to say.'

But it wasn't. In Mal's mind, he had hoped for Inara to say something else. It had never been easy for him to talk about his feelings, especially on a subject as convoluted as this and he was waiting for her to make it easy. But it had meant nothing to her?

'I mean,' Inara continued. 'It was late and we probably had too much to drink.'

'Definitely,' Mal said, putting a fake smile on. 'And it's been really tough on everyone around here since Wash and Book…'

Inara nodded slowly.

Mal didn't. He just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do. Personal feelings and emotions, especially with Inara were two things he liked to avoid. But now they were been forced onto him, and he wasn't ready for that force.

''Nara,' he said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence. 'I…' the curtain fell on his head again. He blew it out of the way.

'Inara,' he continued, composing himself. 'I… um… I just…' The curtain fell again and he pulled it off its wall, rolled it up quickly and threw it to the floor.

Inara chuckled.

'I think you might need a new curtain.'

_Gorram_ _it_, Mal thought. _Just say it. Tell her how you feel._

He never got the chance.

'Don't worry, Mal,' Inara said, cutting him off. 'There's nothing to feel awkward about. It's fine. _We're_ fine. It's just a funny thing that happened.'

_Gorram it…_

'Okay. Good, yep, all settled. Well, I'll, um… I'll see you back on the ship tonight.'

'Yes. I look forward to dinner. I heard Zoe was cooking.'

'Yeah. Didn't even know she could cook. You know. The food kind.'

Silence.

'Well,' Mal said turning to leave. 'I'd best go do my captain-y thing. Get the crew ready and such. Try not to annoy Zoe so as she doesn't poison my meal.'

Inara laughed. 'Don't let me hold you.'

'You weren't,' he said, picking up the curtain. 'It was… good to chat.' Trying to put the curtain back in its place, he gave up and just let it hang on a strange angle.

Inara chuckled again. 'Good luck on Persephone,' she said as he walked out the door.

He nodded and disappeared back out the door, head down in hidden defeat.

* * *

As soon as Mal was out of sight from Inara, she sighed deeply and her happy and composed manner turned into sadness and bitter annoyance. She fell against the pillows, letting her body just sit on top of her bed, sink into it. She had known that conversation was always going to be hard, but she had had to do it. For Mal.

'Stupid, stupid,' she whispered to herself.

Sitting up, she slowly placed her cup of tea on the bedside table and swung her legs out over the edge of the bed. She walked briskly over to the other side of her shuttle, opened her varnished closet with a quick yank on the doors and began rummaging through her clothes.

Behind the hanging, brightly coloured garments which she pushed aside was a small hidden door closed with a small metallic latch. Inara flicked it up and the door flung open to reveal a small compartment buried in the wood in which lay a piece of paper, a packet of syringes and a small rectangular electronic display with a raised circular platform connected that looked just the right size for a finger. In the center of the circular platform was a tiny black speck of a hole.

Inara snatched the device out of the hidden compartment and placed her long, elegant finger firmly in the circular crevice. Tapping a button on the display, Inara closed her eyes and felt the small, but painful prick of a needle shooting up from the small hole and penetrating the skin of her finger. She clenched her teeth and took her finger off the pad, wiping the dot of blood from her skin.

The display lit up with the word, "_calculating…_" in the center. In the top right corner, a bar graph was slowly going up a down, analysing her blood sample.

Inara waited patiently for the result even though she had seen the same thing numerous times. She just kept telling herself, maybe this time it will be different. It was all she could do to hope for a better result.

The device beeped and a percentage came up on the screen.

The result was the same as before.

Inara looked up at the ceiling sadly, her eyelids clenched together. She put the device back in the compartment, shut the door, closed the hatch, pushed the clothes back together and shut the door to her closet.

Then she went and sat on the end of her bed, tears welling up in her eyes.

* * *

Warm afternoon sunlight cast long shadows on the surface of the great City of Persephone. Its large skyscrapers sat in the central city area, surrounded by fast moving shuttles and transport ships, thick billowing clouds and the black smoke that rose from factories roofs. Sunlight reflected off the glistening exterior of the buildings. Everything was pristine, almost too perfect to be real. The wonders of "true" civilisation.

Detaching from the left wing of Serenity, Inara's shuttle sped away towards the towering buildings in Persephone's main business district, as Serenity itself continued in the opposite direction, flying towards the more rural and dirty Eavesdown Docks.

Mal watched the shuttle fly away through the bridge. Inara's shuttle. Flying away to her client. He felt a pain in his chest but he tried not to dwell on it.

'You're staring,' River muttered, keeping her eyes forward.

Mal looked down at her.

River strained her neck to look back at him. 'It's rude to stare.'

The Eavesdown Docks was the collective term of the trading areas of Persephone, more specifically the areas where the black-market circles ran.

Because of its nature and general lack of Alliance interest, it had become one of Serenity's second home. A lot of the jobs they received came from the charming populace of the docks.

The thrusters at the end of each of the large Firefly-class ships wings rotated vertically as the ship caressed a hill, coming to a slow stop in front of the market area. Blue flames shot out from the bottom of the thrusters, keeping Serenity in the air, slowly becoming less intense so that the ship slowly dropped, sitting neatly on its landing gear with a greeting cloud of dust that billowed up like a cocoon.

From below the arching nose of Serenity, the cargo bay door, a large, flat metal wall, opened outward and came to a rest on the ground like a ramp, revealing Mal, Zoe, Jayne, Kaylee, Simon and River standing in its wake.

'Everyone know the drill?' Mal asked stepping onto the open bay door, a shortness in his tone.

'We go walk into an ambush and get our _pigu's_ handed to us by Ranson and Bing?' Jayne asked sarcastically, sliding his orange, knitted beanie that his mother had made onto his head.

Even though Jayne was joking, Mal still had the strange feeling that sat in his chest since his talk with Inara and looked at Jayne completely seriously. 'Jayne, if this deal does go south, and trust me when I say this, your _pigu_ will be the first I hand over.'

'My lovely _pigu_,' Jayne whispered to himself. 'Manly… and firm…'

Mal turned to Kaylee, ignoring Jayne. 'You and River stay with the ship, don't let no unsavoury folk try and steal 'er. Simon,' he said tossing a bag of coins to the doctor, 'there's some coin. Go get us some food. You need any medical supplies you go right on ahead and get 'em, but only if we need it. I expect to see half that in your hand when you come back.'

Simon nodded and dissapeared on the Mule towards the market stalls, the small brown bag of cash in his hand.

'Cap'n,' Kaylee said quickly. 'Us needin' fuel to fly might be somethin' of a consideration…'

'We'll worry 'bout that later.' Mal looked at Zoe and Jayne. 'Best get moving.'

'As long as I get to say I told you so…' Jayne said.

'Like I said, Jayne,' Mal said walking away from the ship, 'we've been tracking these guys for two days now. Nothing bad's gonna happen… hopefully.'

'That's mighty reassuring…'

'You got a problem with your hearin', Jayne? You're attitudes been nothin' short of bothering to me and I ain't in the mood to be bothered.'

Zoe who was walking beside Mal, brushed past a man selling something, no doubt something illegal, under his jacket. 'Sir, as much as it pains me to agree with Jayne, I don't have a good feeling about this. Last time wasn't exactly─'

'Smiles and candy? No. But, to be fair, we were a bit confrontational.'

'They was givin' me looks,' Jayne spat.

''Sides,' Mal continued, 'we never have good feelings about these deals. That's what makes our job so interesting.'

'Interesting's one word,' Jayne said grumpily as the three turned the corner into a covered alley that led down to the meeting place.

* * *

Inara brought her shuttle into the docking port on the side of the government building far from the docks, hearing the _whoosh_ of air that told her the airlock had established. A creaking of metal underneath the shuttle was the sound of the automatic gripping system that attached her shuttle to the building, letting it sit nicely without the thrusters needing to be on to keep it in the air.

Sitting up from the cockpit of her shuttle, Inara made her way to the doorway of her shuttle. She stood in front of it for a moment, composed herself, emptying the thoughts of Mal and percentages from her mind, before she opened it with a touch of her thumb on the green pad to her left.

Standing in the airlock flanked by two escorts, was Isaac Peterson, her client for the day.

He was older than her normal clientele, but not elderly. With a greying black beard and similar hair, Peterson's face didn't look a day over thirty even though he was probably twenty years older. He was also muscular, looking fit and muscular for his age.

'Mr. Peterson,' Inara said curtly, bowing her head. Peterson did the same, extending his hand to touch hers before bending down to kiss it.

'Inara Serra,' he said releasing the hand. 'It's lovely to finally meet you in person. And I can tell you, you look even more beautiful in person than in your pictures.'

Inara blushed. She had heard the same thing from countless other clients, but Peterson was charming, a true gentleman. She felt glad that she had picked him. As a companion it was important to pick the right match.

'You too, look particularly handsome today, your honour.' Like most of Inara's clients, Peterson was part of the government. In this case, Isaac Peterson was the Commander of Persephone Defence Force.

'You're too kind,' Peterson said, without dropping his gaze. 'I know I am not exactly your first preference for a client and I am truly thankful you approved my invitation.'

'Of course. And don't degrade yourself with such assumptions; I can assure you, you are among the best on my list and are definitely one of my first preferences. Would you like to come in?'

'Of course,' Peterson said quickly, clapping his hands. Inara stood to the side and let Peterson enter the brightly coloured shuttle before shutting the door behind her, dimming the room to only the candle flames that were dotted all over the room. The escorts, of course, stayed outside.

'A lovely shuttle you have,' Peterson said, looking around.

'Thank you. It's not as big as I would like, but I try to make it as homely as possible.'

'Well, size isn't always that important,' Peterson said with a cheeky smile. There was not one wrinkle on his face as he did so, strange for a man of his age.

'Commander,' Inara said teasingly, sitting down on the bed. 'We have barely started.'

'I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Nerves sometimes get the better of me'

They both smiled, and Inara gestured for him to sit on the bed next to her.

'Have you been with a companion before, Mr. Peterson?' she asked sweetly. Companions, unlike common prostitutes, went about their job different. They spoke with their clients, became acquainted, provided support if they were sad or angry and helped with their personal problems. They were professional. Their job was not just about what happened in the bed. It was about the connection of two people. Of their souls.

_Try telling that to Mal_, Inara thought, before quickly dismissing the thought of the captain, who had never approved of her job, now more than ever.

'Please, Inara, call me Isaac.'

'Isaac it is then.'

'No, this is my first time.'

'Any reason you chose me in particular, especially since I'm not local.'

'I would think the reason is quite obvious: you are beautiful.'

Inara smiled genuinely. 'Tea?'

'No thanks,' Peterson said. 'Actually, I hate to rush you, but I have an appointment in about an hour.'

'That's not a problem. Get yourself comfortable, we shall begin when you are ready.'

'Excellent.'

Then Peterson reached in, and kissed Inara sweetly on the lips, wrapping his arms around her waist. For a long moment, Inara remembered the kiss with Mal, felt herself back in that moment. But she removed herself from that forbidden memory, refusing to allow herself to go to that place.

* * *

It was dark in the alleyway leading to Ranson and Bing's meeting point, with small streaks of red light that had pushed past the gaps in the cloth overhead. Under cover, away from people's prying eyes, it led to a wooden door by which a large man in a top-hat stood, holding a similarly large rifle in his hands.

'Password?' the guard asked in a gruff voice.

'Were we given a password?' Jayne asked in a whisper.

'That we weren't…' Mal whispered back. He quickly looked over to Zoe.

'Do you got the password?' the guard repeated harshly raising his weapon.

'Yes,' Mal said thinking quickly. 'I do _got _the password. The password is─'

Mal reached into his pocket and the guard brought his gun up cautiously.

The guard's went to fire his weapon but saw the item in Mal's hand: a grenade. And Mal's finger was placed firmly on the detonate button.

'─ let us in or the captain's finger comes off of the button and we all turn into very small pieces,' Zoe said pointing her sawed-off shotgun at the side of the guards head.

Mal saw the guard considering his options. 'Or you can shoot me and then I let go of the button anyway.'

The guard, while obviously not too bright, knew there was nothing he could do and dropped his weapon.

And Mal let go of the button on the "grenade".

'What the─' the guard began to ask a second before Zoe slammed the butt of her shotgun into the back of his head, knocking him out cold. He fell to the ground limply, his rifle clattering along the floor.

Zoe holstered her gun as Mal pocketed his fake grenade. It looked exactly like a normal Alliance issue grenade, however it didn't actually explode.

'Folks an' their lack o' brains never ceases to amaze.'

'Not a good start to all this,' Zoe commented.

'Why? Was that all a bit too dramatic?' Mal asked.

'Not at all, sir. That was a picture of honourable.'

Jayne was confused. 'Why didn't we just shoot him?'

Mal went over to the unconscious guard and took the hat off of his head. 'Thank you,' he said with a smile to the limp body.

Mal walked up to the entrance. 'Jayne. Door.'

Jayne took out his gun, walked up to the wooden door, banged on it three times with the back of his fist before suddenly kicking it down, sending splinters of wood flying out from the broken hinges.

'What was that?' Mal exclaimed, his eyes wide.

'What was what?' Jayne asked, his rifle in hand.

'I didn't tell you to break the door!'

'You said, "Jayne, door".'

'I meant knock and open the door not break it down! We ain't raidin' the Gorram place.'

Interrupting their argument, a sly voice came from inside the shack. 'Communication breakdowns, captain?'

The voice caused Mal, Zoe and Jayne to spin, weapons up at the open doorway in which the fat figure of Ranson stood. He was un-armed, a greasy smile plastered on his chubby face.

'You need better guards, Ranson,' Mal said, keeping his aim and throwing the top-hat to the fat man.

He caught it and put it on his head. 'I'm not armed, you can put your weapons down. This ain't no hostile meeting.'

'We'll decide that for ourselves.'

'Suit yourself…' Ranson said, disappearing into the darkness of the room ahead. Mal stepped in first, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by two matching clinks of metal. Pointed at either side of head were two loaded rifles. Risking a glance, Mal saw that Bing and a similarly dressed mercenary were the owners of the weapons.

'Gorram…'

'Weapons down please, Captain Reynolds,' Bing said in a hypnotically drugged voice. Mal doubted Bing's aim would be accurate even at point blank, but he wasn't going to tempt fate with the second guard.

Mal holstered his weapon, and turned to tell Zoe and Jayne to do the same. They did, Jayne a little more angrily than Zoe, and Mal continued in to the center of the darkened room where, just in front of him stood Ranson with his new top-hat. He stood in the center of a bright light that hung from a crude metal chord. Bing and the other guard flanked the three of them, keeping their posts beside the door.

'I told you so…' Jayne said.

'Not the time, Jayne,' Zoe said.

'Well you just let me know…'

'I thought you said this wasn't a hostile meeting, Ranson?' Mal said calmly but with a hint of anger.

'You're the one that insisted on keeping your weapons.'

'I tend to get a little itchy when there's a guard you said there wouldn't be asking for a password you never gave.'

'Communication breakdown, as I said.' Ranson smiled, his big lips disappearing into his bigger cheeks. 'Bing, Earl, put your weapons down. We want to go about this civilly.'

Mal heard Bing and the other one, Earl, holster their weapons behind him.

'Jayne,' Ranson noted his old acquaintance.

'Ranson...'

'You're looking good.'

'You're looking _pihua_.'

'Jayne, Jayne. I thought we was over this childishness.'

Jayne grunted, resisting the urge that stung at every nerve in his body telling him to punch Ranson in the nose.

'You got the package from Liann?' Ranson asked, arms crossed.

Mal locked eyes with the man. 'Somethin' important to you means somewhat of a bargaining chip for me.'

'Please, Malcolm. No games.'

'Yeah, Malcolm,' Bing said to his own rhythm. 'No games.'

Mal thought about it briefly before diving a hand into his coat pocket and bringing out the envelope from Liann Jiun.

Jayne looked at the envelope. 'Whoa, Mal, let's think about this─'

Mal ignored Jayne and passed the envelope to Ranson, who snatched it greedily as if he expected Mal to retract it.

'And the money?'

Mal handed over the bank chip. 'Half. As we planned.'

Ranson pulled a sack of credits from his pocket, handed it to Mal.

'Your half's in there. You could count to make sure, but it'd hurt my feelings.'

Suddenly the darkened room was lit up by numerous florescent white lights lined on the ceiling that burst to life. The newfound light revealed six more men that had previously been un-seen by Mal, Zoe and Jayne. They were sitting casually on a low desk, holding assault rifles and pistols. These guns, however, weren't pointed at anyone. All of them, bar one, were dressed in the typical gear of mercenaries and criminals like Ranson and Bing.

The exception, the man in the center of the new group, was very different.

Tall, cleanly shaven and wearing an expensive, elegant looking white suit that matched his tanned complexion, the man in the middle was definitely the odd one out in the room…

'Hello, Malcolm.'

… and he knew Mal.

'Well now. No one told us there was a party down here,' Mal said, looking at the five armed mercenaries with a hidden nervousness.

'They most certainly didn't,' Zoe agreed, decidedly unhappy with the new company.

'Don't blame the captain, Miss Washburn,' the white suited man said, overhearing her words. 'After all, we are the ones intruding on your meeting here.'

'You the contractor?' Mal asked.

'In a way,' the man replied somewhat cryptically. 'I was behind the plan on Liann, so, I suppose I am.'

'Very shiny,' Mal said dismissively as he looked the man up and down. 'You seem to know me and my crew. But I'm afraid I don't know you…'

'Of course, how impolite of me. My name is Micayel Quain.'

Mal caught a sideways glance from Zoe who was looking tense, her hand hovering over her gun. He shook his head discreetly.

She wasn't the only one feeling a bit wary of the new group of men with guns. 'You want I should shoot 'em now, Mal?' Jayne asked discreet as he could, although being sneaky wasn't his strong point.

'That would be stupider than usual, Jayne,' Mal muttered over his shoulder.

'Stupider than walkin' into a Gorram trap?'

'Jayne I'm a mite angry at the moment. You're gonna want to think to that very, very clearly before you continue speaking.'

'Ranson,' Quain said over their whispering. 'The envelope please.'

Ranson handed Quain the envelope. The man in the white suit looked inside it briefly before reaching into his pocket, bringing out a lighter, and burning a corner of the envelope with the small flame.

It shrivelled up in the intense heat and floated away in tiny ashes. Mal thought it strange, but was in no position to ask questions.

'Thank you for the delivery, Mister Reynolds,' Quain said. 'The papers inside were quite dangerous to my cause.'

Mal didn't like the way the man said _cause_. It made it seem like he believed in whatever it was that he did unconditionally, like a serial killer believed murdering was as normal as eating a healthy meal.

Mal didn't appreciate men like that. Undyingly loyal men were dangerous men.

'Didn't do it for you or your _cause_. Money's good's all. Got mouths to feed.'

'I can understand your hostility, captain. But let me assure you, me and my men do not wish to harm you. In fact, if the job on Liann Jiun proves anything, then it's that we wish to do the opposite.'

_We_, Mal wondered. _Who is "we"? _

'Well, a thanks is in order, I s'pose,' he said.

'I know you didn't expect me to be here, captain, so I will cut this short as to put you at ease. I'm not here to hurt you or your crew. I am simply here to make a proposition to you. One I am sure you will not be able to pass up on.'

'Would've been nicer if you had of just told us. Surprise ain't the best way to start a deal.'

'Well, fact is Malcolm, you are quite reckless. And the information I'm about to divulge to you is quite secretive and we can't let it fall into the hands of the Alliance.'

'Thought you would've done your research,' Mal said bluntly. 'Alliance and me ain't exactly the show and tell type.'

'I know. Which is why we need you and your crew.'

The light in the center of the ceiling swung side to side.

Mal held his gaze. 'I'm listening.'

* * *

'You ever think of Wash and Book?'

River watched a butterfly float peacefully by her face, her eyes alight with intrigue as the blue and black wings fluttered by her nose. She raised a hand and let the beautiful bug land gracefully on her elongated finger before she turned to Kaylee who was sitting by Serenity in her fold-out chair.

'Butterfly,' she said whimsically.

'Oh pretty,' Kaylee exclaimed excitedly sitting up. 'Don't see many of them out here no more with the smoke and such.'

River studied the creature. 'Sign.'

'What was that, sweetie?'

'A sign. Good before the bad. Something nice before something terrible happens.'

Kaylee snorted. 'Don't be silly, River. It's just a pretty butterfly'

The butterfly lifted up in the hot air slowly, and River traced its movements with her eyes. It was so graceful. 'I do.'

'Think about them? About Wash? And Shepherd Book?'

River nodded as she did a perfect ballerina spin on one toe among the crowd, her dress picking up as she did so like the wings of the butterfly. 'I hear them sometimes…'

'Really?' Kaylee asked, always interested, and maybe a little terrified, of River's gifts. 'What do they say?'

'They sing happy birthday…'

Kaylee gave River a quizzical look.

'… from Zoe's birthday. The video you took, I watch it sometimes…'

Kaylee smiled warmly, realising what River had meant, and slightly relieved she wasn't talking about her psychic abilities. To be honest, it kind of creeped her out, made her uneasy.

'She was so happy that day,' Kaylee remarked, reminiscing fondly as she played with her hair. 'It was just before Book left too. And then Wash died. Poor thing. If my husband died like that, someone I loved…'

Suddenly, Simon came around the corner as River and Kaylee spoke. 'Got the supplies,' he said casually as he drove up beside Kaylee. On the back of the Mule, the small hovering transport, was a crate of food and water, as well as a box of medical supplies.

Kaylee, blushing even though Simon wouldn't have heard her say "someone I loved", nodded her head and said dismissively, 'Good. Great job.'

Simon looked up at her, ignored her sarcasm and jumped off the Mule. He walked over to River with one of the crates.

River however, felt the tension between them hot against her skin. She didn't like it, and floated away from Simon and into the cargo bay of Serenity, leaving her big brother, and the crate, beside Kaylee with a familiar silence.

'River…' Simon muttered as she hid childishly behind the stacks of boxes inside.

Kaylee didn't look up at Simon, instead just watched the busy people walking by, pursing her lips and creasing her brow.

'Um…' Simon breathed, trying to think of something to talk about. 'Lots of people out.'

'Sure are.'

'The supplies weren't too expensive.'

'That's nice.'

'The food won't be the nicest of course.'

Kaylee nodded.

Simon scratched his head, struggling to scale the wall she had placed between them. 'I got some, uh, strawberries as well.'

Kaylee didn't turn. 'That's nice,' she repeated nonchalantly.

'I don't know how good they are… but, uh, I mean, they were cheap. Can't exactly live large with the money the Captain gives us…'

Kaylee's shoulder was, stubbornly, as cold as ever.

'So I had to put in some of my own money, and...'

Then it warmed.

'Simon,' she said sweetly. 'You shouldn't have…'

'I knew you liked them and they were there and…'

'Thank you,' Kaylee said, making it easy for him. She nodded her head, looking at him with round, loving eyes with his. 'Really. Thank you. That was real nice.'

Simon went red and turned away. 'It was nothing,' he said simply before hopping back onto the Mule and driving it into Serenity.

Kaylee watched him drive into the hold. She still liked him. A lot. Maybe even loved him. She'd never loved anyone to be sure she knew its meaning. But it never worked out. There just wasn't meant to be anything between them and she kept telling herself that.

'There is,' she heard someone say. 'You just have to believe it.'

Kaylee looked around and saw River standing right behind her.

'River,' she said. 'You scared the bajesus out of me.'

'You just have to believe,' River repeated.

Kaylee looked at River curiously as she skipped into the cargo hold. She couldn't have read her mind, could she? Well, she could have, she was a reader. But Kaylee had never experienced her mind being read by River before. It was hard to realise that someone knew what you had just told yourself in your head after years of keeping your mind a secret.

Disturbing her thoughts, the radio sitting by Kaylee's chair buzzed to life as the Captain's voice boomed out of it.

'_Kaylee_!' he yelled. '_Kaylee! Pick up the Gorram radio_!'

'I'm here, Cap'n.'

'_I need the ship ready to go right now or very soon! We're gonna be comin' in quick and with comp'ny!_'

'River,' Kaylee said looking up. But River was already gone, skipping up the stairs towards the cockpit.

'We'll be ready, Cap'n. Is everything okay?'

There was a pause as gunfire came through from the other end. '_Just dandy._'

* * *

Fifteen minutes before he called Kaylee, Mal, along with Zoe and Jayne were sandwiched between Bing and Earl, Ranson, the five mercenaries and their leader, Quain.

'I'm listening,' Mal said.

Quain smiled like a man of power, a man who was in control of the situation. He paced around the room with his hands behind his back before looking up at Mal.

'Well, captain, I assume you know what a Browncoat is?'

'I've got a faint idea.'

'Independents. Soldiers from the War who fought the Alliance for freedom. Believe it or not, some still label themselves as such. Alliance haven't made friends with everyone in the 'verse as you well know. They keep all the money for themselves and the rich folk inside the core, but leave nothing for the struggling people on the Rim and even many of the Border planets. They hide the truth from the people say they are trying to protect for their, perfect society. A society none of us asked for.

'Our organisation is made up of old Browncoats from the war, just like you and me, and our goal is simple: to start a new war. A war which we will win this time. A war which will see a new era, free from the lies and deceit of the Alliance. Indirectly, your efforts on Miranda, which have weakened Alliance support on the Rim and the Border planets, has helped us quite a bit in gaining support.'

Serenity's involvement in the Miranda incident, Mal knew, wasn't public knowledge. That meant, that Quain had connections to the Alliance, which made Mal all the more suspicious.

'To achieve our goal,' Quain went on, 'we need men like you. Good men. Loyal men. Natural leaders, you may say. Men that have first-hand experience with the plague on the 'verse that is the Alliance. We have saved up over the years, gathering soldiers, equipment, weapons, ships, everything we need, but there is always room for more.'

His voice was as smooth as silk, same as his suit. The light shone on Quain's as he waited for the captain's reaction. Godly light. Powerful.

Mal looked at Quain straight in the eyes. There was no sign that the man was telling anything less than the complete truth.

Mal laughed. 'Wow, wasn't that just something. Wasn't that something Zoe?'

'Beautiful, sir. Feel like sewing it on a throw pillow, decorate my room.' Behind Zoe's sarcasm, Mal couldn't have comprehended what Zoe was actually thinking.

'A mite quick though,' Mal continued. 'The intensity though, was really good. All manner of convincing.'

'I don't want to waste your time, Captain,' Quain said steadily, ignoring his flippancy.

'Mm,' Mal murmured. 'I'm sure. And how exactly…'

'We will lead a diversionary team to strike the heart of the Alliance military, their fleet outside Sihnon's atmo. Surprise will be our strength. Something we didn't have last time. We will weaken their defences and as the diversionary team flees to Whitefall, a fake retreat, they will follow. They would have to. With the Alliance pre-occupied on Whitefall, our main army will attack the major cities, crushing their─'

'Whoa, wait a tick,' Mal cut in. 'Major cities?'

'The Alliance is everywhere. We need to attack them where it hurts.'

'I don't mean to insult your shiny and obviously well thought out plan. But major cities? That means casualties. Innocent ones.'

'We know the costs, captain and we will do what we have to.' Quain was confident. 'Mere casualties now to a broken society so that we can rebuild in our vision.'

'You said you wanted to start a war not terrorism…' Mal was thinking quickly. This was all happening so suddenly. Mal didn't like to be rushed. He needed time to think. To consider what was happening, weigh his options. But there was no time for any of that.

'Listen, captain, this is a deal you can't pass up─'

'I s'pose that's for me to decide…'

'─You may question our methods but this is the only way. A chance at redemption and revenge. You can take it, or you can die here in the dirt. I do not wish to kill you but the key to our success is surprise and we can't have an un-loyal person out there knowing our plan.'

'Understandable.' Mal smiled as warmly as he could. Behind the smile, his mind was racing. He didn't like the plan, or Quain for that matter. They were desperate, too desperate. A plan that involved risking innocent people's lives was a plan Mal was against. The War was long gone to Mal, and he knew that overtaking the Alliance, no matter how bad they really were, would cause more damage than leaving things be.

In a split second, he decided what he was going to do, and it wasn't to help these new Independents.

He began formulating a plan in his head. Five armed mercs in front. Two flanking them, covering their only way out. They couldn't shoot their way out. Too risky.

He heard a mechanical whirring in the back corner of the shack. Red lights of a power generator shone from the shadows.

_Think Mal_, he told himself, _think_.

He traced a chord from the neon lights above them to the generator. It was powering the room.

Zoe could see Mal plotting in his head. She knew the tell-tale signs: the casual smiling, the joking to give himself more time to think, the tapping of his fingers on his waist. He didn't want to help Quain. He didn't want to be part of this resurgence. Zoe, his ever faithful second-hand was watching Mal get ready to deny the proposal.

And she didn't want him to. For the first time in her life, she didn't want to follow her captain. The Alliance had killed Wash. Not directly, but their actions had contributed to his death. They had caused every bit of sadness and pain in her life.

And they needed to pay.

'Mal?' Jayne whispered, looking for a way out. He too, didn't like the way things were going. 'This don't feel right. Finger's gettin' a mite itchy…'

'Sir, maybe we should─' Zoe was cut off.

'Listen, Micayel, right?' Mal said, ignoring both of them. 'Can I call you Mick?'

Quain didn't answer, instead just waiting for Mal's own.

'Well Mick,' Mal continued, 'folks don't seem to understand me and my relationship with the Alliance that well. Not even the Alliance themselves. I don't have any need to get revenge. I don't wish I could kill every Gorram Alliance soldier for the hell of it. War's long gone and I just want to go my own way, keep my ship flyin' and my crew goin'. If that means getting in the Alliance's way occasionally then fine, I got no problems with rufflin' a few feathers. But I ain't gonna kill the whole rooster. It's all water under the bridge for me. And this, "plan", of yours,' he said with a casual chuckle, 'could go all manner of bad. I know men like you; I saw them in the war. And I don't much care for them. So, I'm going to have to politely decline on your proposition.'

Quain looked at Mal calmly. 'Are you sure about this, captain?'

'Pretty darn, actually.'

Quain took a step forward. 'I didn't want to play this hand, captain. The Alliance have an active warrant for your crews arrest…'

_No_, Mal thought. _How did he know?_

Mal's face fell. Behind him, Zoe and Jayne were listening very intently at the new information.

'… They aren't too happy about your involvement on Miranda and wish to put you and the rest of your people away for a very long time. I know you know this, captain. You've been more careful where you take your jobs because you are a wanted fugitive. Helping us with this war, well, that could ensure your safety.'

'Mal,' Jayne said. 'What is he talking about?'

'Is that true, sir?' Zoe asked pointedly.

Mal didn't turn, couldn't bring himself to look at them.

'What's this?' Quain said with a wide smile. 'You didn't tell them? You didn't tell your crew, captain? Well, now, this is very embarrassing for me…'

Mal held his ground. 'You're right, Quain. I don't know how you know, but we are fugitives. I didn't tell my crew 'cause… well, I was ashamed. I got them in this mess anyhow. But, that doesn't change what I think. I ain't helping you.'

Quain's smile dissapeared. 'Does your crew agree?'

'I'm with ya, Mal,' Jayne answered quickly. 'I don't trust this _hwoon dahn_. But when we get back to Serenity, we're havin' a little chat 'bout this whole fugitive business…'

'Can't wait,' Mal muttered.

Quain turned to Zoe. 'Miss Washburne?'

She shook her head solemnly. With conflicting emotions, wanting to stick by Mal and wanting to join Quain at the same time, Zoe simply said, 'Captain's told you where I stand.'

Quain stepped back, nodded to his men. 'Well then, I have no choice.'

'One last thing, Quain,' Mal said turning to Zoe and Jayne. 'Shiny suit.'

In the next few seconds, a lot of things happened very quickly.

Simultaneously, the five Independent soldiers behind Quain raised their weapons, as did Mal, drawing his trusty pistol.

Zoe and Jayne however turned their backs and grabbed Bing and Earl. Jayne disarmed Bing with two quick jabs to the chest and one to the face, while Zoe struck Earl savagely across the jaw with the butt of her sawed-off.

While they did this, Mal had less than a second until the five guards opened fire and cut them down into tiny pieces. Mal spotted the generator which Quain stood beside.

The soldiers aimed their weapons.

Mal aimed and took his one shot.

Two bullets shot out of his gun with a flower of flame. They flew through the air, the first bullet landing straight in the center of the generator, piercing its metal skin. The second one penetrated the machine. The effect was immediate.

The generator exploded as the bullets tore up its insides. Fire and burning electricity spat out from the tear in the metal, burning the left side of Quain's face. He shrieked as the flesh was grotesquely melted to his bone in an instant.

The explosion didn't just injure Quain. The five soldiers were distracted by the flames, some leaping away as the heat got to close for their liking. And, like Mal had hoped, the lights along the ceiling began to dim, eventually dying out completely as the generator powering them stopped working. Then, there was nothing but darkness and Quain's screams.

Mal, Zoe and Jayne searched for the door. When they had found it and opened it to escape, afternoon sunlight poured into the small shack, revealing them to the soldiers. The five armed men quickly aimed their weapons.

Zoe and Jayne had Bing and Earl held out in front of them like human shields. The soldiers hesitated, and in that moment of hesitation, the three of them were out of sight, with Bing and Earl tightly in their grasp.

'Go!' Quain shouted, nursing his scalded face. 'Get after them!'

The soldiers obeyed their orders and rushed outside after Mal, firing wildly down the alley way as they did so.

Mal pivoted as he ran, aimed his pistol briefly and fired two shots. The first one hit empty concrete, the other dug into the shoulder blade of one of the pursuing soldiers. A small cloud of blood immerged from his arm and the man fell mid-run.

'Jayne!' Mal yelled above the gunfire. 'Covering fire!'

Mal turned a corner with Zoe and the hostages while Jayne stayed behind and brought up his menacing looking sub-machine gun. His finger jammed down on the trigger and he sent a whole clip of bullets flying in the direction of the soldiers. They all jumped out of the way, taking cover behind the array of boxes on the ground and wooden beams holding up the make-shift tarp ceiling. Once his gun ran dry, Jayne quickly dodged around the corner and caught up with Mal and Zoe.

'Damn Ranson and Bing!' he yelled, pushing Bing along as he did so. 'I told you they's was no good!'

'Thank you for the reminder, Jayne,' Mal said, shooting and running.

'Sir, about back there…' Zoe began.

'We'll talk about it later,' Mal said sternly, thinking she was talking about what Quain had revealed to her about their status as fugitives. She was, however, thinking about something else entirely.

'Stupid Independent nut jobs!' Jayne yelled frustratedly. 'They ain't ever gonna let that ruttin' war go, are they?'

Mal took another shot down the alley. 'I got a stupid part of me doesn't blame 'em.'

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. A stray bullet clipped him in the arm and span him into a wall with the force.

'Mal!' Jayne called, digging his heels into the dirt to turn around. 'Zoe, keep going!'

Zoe kept running along with Bing and Earl while Jayne ran over to Mal who was starting into a sprint again.

'You okay?' Jayne asked genuinely worried.

'No!' Mal said through gritted teeth. 'I just got shot!'

Jayne pulled Mal off the wall and fired his gun towards the soldiers.

Up ahead, Mal watched Zoe ducking into the crowd with Bing and Earl. As he ran from the soldiers, listening to Jayne's cursing and the echoing of gun-fire, he thought about how Zoe had responded to Quain's proposal. How quiet she had been. He had a bad feeling about what she actually though about his plan. She had taken the loss of the War a lot harder than he had. Apart from that, she was so lost without Wash that she would use any excuse she could to justify avenging his death.

A wave a doubt hit Mal as he thought. Had he made the right decision not to help the Independents?

Something pulled him away from his thoughts: Earl's head suddenly snapped forward at an unnatural angle as a bullet slammed into the back of his skull. Zoe and Bing ducked for cover as his limp body fell amongst the crowd, which began screaming and panicking, running in every direction like a spooked herd of cows.

'Quick, they won't shoot at the crowd!' Mal said pushing into the screaming mass of people. He dialled his radio. 'Kaylee! Kaylee! Pick up the Gorram radio!'

* * *

Kaylee was standing in the open cargo door when Mal, Zoe, Jayne and Bing came running up to her, bursting out of the crowd that had suddenly exploded into chaos. She hadn't known what to expect when Mal had called her, but it certainly was the scene that was unfolding in front of her.

Mal threw Bing in first, then gestured Jayne and Zoe in after them.

'Cap'n,' Kaylee said. 'What's happen─?'

'Kaylee! Get inside!' Mal yelled.

'Oh my gosh, cap'n. You're bleeding…'

'Kaylee! Move!' As he ordered her, Kaylee caught a glance of men with guns, running towards them with angry looks on their faces.

Mal reached forward, pushed the top of head down, forcing her to duck, just as a volley of bullets slammed into the inside wall of the cargo hold, travelling through the space she had been standing in.

Kaylee was frozen stiff from shock, her body shutting down in fright. Mal swiftly grabbed her up off the floor and dashed inside Serenity with her in his arms, covering her with his body. He shot a few bullets towards the soldiers before he punched the "close" button on the control panel. The cargo door obeyed and began to lift up off the ground, sealing them off to the pursuing Independents outside. Their bullets hit the other side of the large metal door, making a harmless symphony of dull thuds.

'River!' Mal said into the comm. unit on the wall. Almost immediately, Serenity's thrusters were powering up and the whole mass of metal that was the ship lifted slowly up into the air, away from the troubles on the ground.

Mal let Kaylee down as the ship began to take off and collapsed against a wall tiredly.

'Who…' Kaylee stammered, her bottom lip quivering from all the shooting. 'Who w-were they?'

Mal ignored her, stood up slowly. He spotted Bing lying on the floor surrounded by Zoe and Jayne and rushed over to him.

'You stupid ruttin' son of whore!' Mal kicked Bing angrily in the ribs as he lay on the ground. 'You and that fat excuse for a partner of yours led us right into a trap! You almost got us all killed!'

'It wasn't a trap!' Bing exclaimed frightfully. 'We, we, we thought you'd be interested.'

'Is anyone hurt?' Simon asked, coming into the hold with his medical supplies.

'Not yet,' Mal said, clearly forgetting his bullet wound. He picked Bing off the ground by the scruff of the neck. 'You're going to tell me everything you know about these Independents.'

Mal took him over to a wall, pushed him up against it, gripping him by the collar, putting his face right up into his.

'I'll tell you everything!' Bing breathed. 'Just let me go.'

Mal was furious. His eyes were boiling with anger. He felt like snapping this worthless things neck and throwing him out of his ship. He had almost got the whole crew killed. _His_ crew.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Kaylee's warm hand.

'Cap'n,' she said sweetly. 'He ain't gonna do nothin' bad. Look at him.'

Mal saw the unarmed man shaking as he pinned him to the wall.

'Weren't him that was shooting. Let him go,' she said calmly, with an undying goodness in her voice.

Mal pushed harder. He saw the fear in Bing's eyes, remembered how close Kaylee had come to being shot, remembered Wash being severed by a Reaver spike and Book dying in his arms, remembered Inara's words cutting him down, remembered the War and that hellish time in Serenity Valley and how it was all catching up to him again…

… and then he let go of Bing and walked away. Let go of his anger. Put all that sadness back in the recess of his mind where he hid all of his emotions.

'Jayne,' he said not looking back, his head down. 'You take Bing to an empty room and make sure he don't go nowhere till I have a chat with him. When we pick up Inara, we're all gonna have a meeting about what the ruttin' hell just happened. Once that's done I want him off of my boat as soon as possible.'

Mal walked slowly up the catwalks, dabbing his gunshot wound with his finger, and everyone watched him go. Everyone too scared to even breathe.

Zoe ran up to him, leaving Jayne, Kaylee and Simon to look over Bing, who was clutching at his throat for air.

'Sir.'

'I just want to leave the past in the past, Zoe,' he said sadly, stopping halfway up the stairs. 'Is that too much to ask?'

She watched him walk up to his room and then turned away.

'I wish I could,' she said to herself.

'Hey, Zoe!' Jayne called out. 'Come grab this rutter for me, will ya? Don't wanna get none of his stink on me.'

Zoe shook her head, clearing her thoughts. 'Coming,' she said, walking over to the rest of the crew.

* * *

Thanks for reading my new and improved Chapter Two.

If you were a fan of the old chapters (the few of you that read them; by the way, thank you so much for your feedback and your patience) don't worry, they will turn up again in this story eventually. The Eta Carinae chapter will definitely turn up again, but not necessarily as the next chapter after this one like it was originally. It will also be slightly different and less far-fetched, as I think Riona put it :D. Also, sorry for the long wait in between chapters. I regretfully haven't had much free time lately. Yes, school is a bit annoying like that.


	3. This Fine Establishment

**CHAPTER THREE**

**THIS FINE ESTABLISHMENT**

Nestled between two piles of scrap metal that barely represented ships, Serenity blended in better than Malcolm Reynolds cared to admit.

The junkyard was full of run-down, partly destroyed wrecks of past ships that had once flown majestically though the 'verse, but had eventually fallen to the effects of age. Mal had spotted one that had a circular hole pierced in its port side, no doubt from a Reaper harpoon. River decided to park far away from that particular ship, as she was sick of thoughts of the cannibalistic savages plaguing her dreams and the mere sight of the damage had almost sent her into a breakdown.

Zoe surely wouldn't have taken too kindly to it either.

After barely escaping from the Independents on the Eavesdown Docks, they had flown skyward, hoping to get off-world. However, they had been running on reserve fuel since Liann Jiun, and wouldn't get further than Persephone's atmosphere, if they were lucky.

Mal knew he would never hear the end of it from Kaylee, as she had informed him of the low fuel situation back on the Docks.

None of them were exactly happy about their current point of rest in Dirt Town, a poor district just a few kilometres east of the City of Persephone. Mal had a feeling that if he doubted the reach of Quain that he would pay for his mistake. He was the type of man that could find you when you thought you were completely safe. A boogey-man underneath the bed.

Hopefully though, a few kilometres away and amongst the thousands of wrecked ships in the junkyard, they would be hard to find for even a boogey-man.

Bing was biting at his fingers when Mal came down the stairs. Jayne had thrown him into Shepherd Book's old room, the only spare room left in the ship. Mal didn't much approve of the late shepherd's room housing a murderer, addict and rapist, but it was the only place they could put him so as to keep him from roaming the ship.

Mal's arm was wrapped up in a bandage that stained red with blood, the wound where he had received a bullet during the escape earlier that day. It had taken a painful fifteen minutes to dislodge the bullet, the extra time because he had insisted to Simon that he do it himself. As soon as the piece of lead was out of his muscle, and Simon had stitched him up, Mal had made his way straight to his new guest.

'Bing-Bing!' he said with uncharacteristic cheer as he opened to door to the room. It was a strange way that he coped with the trials of the day, being so overtly happy. But, that was Mal, a contradiction.

Again, he had just pushed it all aside, hiding it under the carpet to be dealt with at a later date.

Bing ignored Mal and continued to bite into the flesh of his fingers, drawing blood as red as a strawberry from the tips.

Mal held back his disgust. 'Hungry?'

'Stay 'way!' Bing snapped suddenly. His already artificially wide, black eyes widened as he saw the captain approach, empty voids caused by an earlier dosage that was still in effect. He scrambled almost on all four limbs to the back corner of the room to make himself as small as possible. Almost slamming his head into the metal with his haste.

'Keep 'way from me!'

'It's okay,' Mal said slowly, hands up as you would to an animal. 'I ain't here to hurt ya. Just to talk.'

Bing was a strange person. Tall and lanky, he had a shaven head that shined in the light of the room. His eyes remained open and unblinking, black holes that led to an empty head which was known to house violent ideas of things he could do to young women. His teeth were varying shades of yellow, same as his bitten nails. His bare arms were marked with numerous injection points. His clothes were dirty pieces of rags sewn together in the general shape of a person. Mal didn't know whether to despise or pity the man. Perhaps both.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Bing shivered violently, like a wave of electricity had gone up his spine. 'Ah ain't talkin'… till ah get mah, mah… m-m-meds.' Mal noticed Bing's voice was different from before in the cargo hold. He guessed that the drugs, or meds as Bing referred to them, he had been on had worn off, making him lose his usual happy, heightened speech.

Mal hoped his cravings would help him get some information.

'Bing, I can't get you your m-m-meds right now.' Mal approached slowly, careful not to spook him. 'But if you help me out, I might be able to find you some. Okay?'

Bing shivered again, scratching at his face vigorously. He was crouching in his corner, and peered out from under his crossed arms, looking Mal up and down.

'You lie,' he spat indignantly.

Mal crouched down to Bing's level. 'Maybe I do. But without me, you definitely aren't gonna find any, now are you?' Mal spoke rhythmically, working to Bing's beat.

Bing licked a dot of blood from his lips, thought as much as his mind would allow him, and finally said, 'Ah… ah guess… ah, ah could help you out.'

Mal smiled. 'Good. Now, I need you to tell me about the men who wanted me to help them. The men who asked you and Ranson to arrange the deal with me.'

'Them Indepen'ents?'

'Them the ones. You know anything about 'em?'

Bing seemed to think. 'Nothin' other than the man's name in the white suit.' As he said this, he laughed to himself. 'A… a white suit!' he exclaimed joyfully, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

Mal laughed with him, made himself a friend.

'Anything else? Like, what equipment they had, or where he's from?'

Bing seemed to hesitate at that particular question. Mal saw him twitch and knew he had some kind of information.

'Bing,' Mal pressed carefully, 'I wanna help you. But I can't get you those meds without some answers. Now, do you know anything, or not?'

Bing sniffed his jacket. 'Ah has somethin', I do I do. But Ranson said not to─'

'Ranson's probably telling the Independents about you and me right now. He isn't thinking about you. He never has.'

Bing considered this. 'He always did think he was better than me…' He reached into the pocket of his pants. 'Here, Ranson wrote this down when we met with the man in the white suit. He said it was in case he went back on our deal so's we could send our boys over there for payback. We just give 'em the call and… pow!'

Mal looked briefly at the piece of scrunched up paper. One part of the paper perplexed him.

'So this is where you met Quain?'

Bing nodded furiously.

'And you're sure?'

He continued to nod, eager for another hit of cocaine, or ecstasy, or whatever it was that he took.

'Now, you wouldn't lie to me, now would you Bing? Send me into another trap like at the Docks?'

'Weren't no trap on the Docks.'

'So I keep hearing… but if this is a trap, I will find you Bing. You know I will.'

'No trap,' he said fearfully, holding his neck where Mal had grabbed him last time. 'No trap.'

Mal smiled with satisfaction and stood to leave. 'Good. Thank you very kindly, Mr. Bing.'

'W-wait!' Bing yelled out desperately. 'Wait! What about mah meds!'

Mal stopped in the doorway, span around to face the distraught Bing. 'Oh yeah. Uh… forget about them. Not good for you.'

Almost impossibly, Bing's eyes went wider. 'But you said…'

'I said you might get 'em. Never said definitely.'

Bing's mouth went wide as Mal left, and the captain couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face.

'Oh… I am a bad man,' he said to himself with a sly smile as he walked up the stairs towards the forward corridor. Bing watched him leave, and when he was out of sight, returned to chewing at his fingers, alone in the preacher's old room as he mumbled to himself about the rabbit that wouldn't stop staring at him from the ceiling.

* * *

The spotted red skin of the strawberry shone in the light of Inara's shuttle, beckoning her to it. As it was broken by Kaylee's teeth that sunk into is slowly, delicately, with the precision of a surgeon, the fruit burst open and Kaylee slowly sucked out the beautiful juice as if it were her last meal. Mixed with the scent of the burning incense and candles scattered around the shuttle, the taste was overwhelmingly good, and Kaylee sat with her eyes closed, slowly crunching at the remains, taking her time, savouring every taste.

'They look good,' Inara said, laughing at the amount of pleasure Kaylee took in just one strawberry.

'They _are_ good,' Kaylee breathed.

'Don't even think about it,' Kaylee snapped jokingly, snatching the box up and sheltering it with her body.

Inara laughed again. 'If I didn't know better I'd think they were the last in the 'verse.'

'I'm glad they're not. From now on, I'm havin' strawberries once a day, least. They make me happy for a change.'

'That was very sweet of Simon to remember.'

Kaylee stopped chewing. ''Nara. I don't know what to do anymore. Every time we try to… I dunno, _be_ together, we just end up fussin' over somethin'. But then he's so nice an' all…'

'It means he wants to try and make it work.' Inara sat beside Kaylee on the end of her bed. 'I can see it in his eyes. The way he stares at you when you enter the room. He really does care.'

Kaylee went as red as the fruit she held. 'You think?'

'I know. It's my job, remember.'

Inara went back to blowing out the candles in her shuttle and Kaylee dug back into the box and grabbed another red gem.

'So how was your client this mornin'? Handsome? Rich?'

'Different. A little older than usual, but handsome all the same. Polite, like an old gentleman. Very charming.'

'Sounds like you did more talkin' than─'

'It's not, always about _that_.'

'Oh. It all sounds so romantic,' Kaylee said mystified.

'Well, it would be if I wasn't asked to cut my meetings so short all the time. The captain always seems to pull me back to the ship as soon as possible when I'm with a client.' Inara distinguished another candle and the small flame dissapeared from the wick in a short whisper of smoke.

Kaylee smiled cheekily. 'Yeah, well… that's just the cap'n carin' 'bout you.'

'Hush, Kaylee,' Inara said smiling also, but in a sadder manner. 'Mal and I… that's just something that's never going to work out.'

Kaylee continued to smile. 'I dunno… I did manage to get a peek at you two the other night.'

Inara was floored. 'You didn't.'

'You two looked pretty cosy.'

'That… was a mistake,' Inara said, remembering the kiss she had shared with Mal the night before the job on Liann. _A very nice mistake though_, the thought.

'Mistake or not, it happened.' Kaylee paused and looked at Inara, who had closed off, not smiling or laughing anymore, but instead looking deeply sad in a way that someone as optimistic as Kaylee couldn't comprehend. 'River said something that made me think this morning. She said you just have to believe it. I think she was meanin' 'bout me an' Simon. Like she was… reading me or something. I dunno.'

Kaylee laughed quietly at that last part, as if saying it sounded foolish.

The cushion at the front of her bed looked crooked. Inara straightened it out, ever the perfectionist, and said, 'She's a very wise girl our River. Are you going to take her advice?'

Kaylee looked at the strawberry in between her fingers. 'I think I might. Maybe you should too.' Then she laughed and tossed the strawberry to Inara who caught and bit into it straight away.

'I'm going to miss the taste of these,' she murmured.

Kaylee looked at her strangely. 'What do you mean?'

Inara stopped, looked at Kaylee with a sweet smile. 'Nothing,' she said simply.

* * *

Once Zoe and Simon had returned to Serenity with fuel tanks from the depot in Dirt Town, Mal organised everyone into the kitchen.

The kitchen, positioned in between the bridge and the engine room, sat in the center of the top deck of Serenity, and acted as a general gathering area for the crew.

Its yellow walls were lined with stencilled flowers that Kaylee has painted on to make the place seem homelier. In the center of the room was a long wooden table, littered with cups and plates from the morning's breakfast that no one had managed to clean up during the day. In the very middle of the table stood a basket full of green apples that Simon had bought, along with Kaylee's strawberries, from the markets. They looked perfectly round and delicious.

Mal was leaning in the doorway leading to the forward corridor, his arms crossed as he waited for everyone to settle in.

Zoe, Kaylee and Simon were all ready sitting around the table. River was sitting on the kitchen bench beside it, swinging her legs back and forth.

When Inara entered, Mal gave her a brief look. When they made eye contact, it lasted for less than a second before they both looked away.

Jayne was the last to arrive, collapsing loudly into a chair at the very end of the table.

'Oh, apples,' he said delightedly, yanking one out of the basket with his mammoth hands and leaning back, legs up on the table.

'How's our prisoner?' Simon asked Mal quietly with a doctor's concern.

'A little jittery,' Mal replied. 'He's makin' a meal outta his fingers but I don't think he'll need none of your assistance, thank you doctor.'

Simon nodded.

'Wait, our prisoner?' Inara asked. She had only just exited her shuttle since returning from her client, Mr. Peterson. After Mal had called her halfway through their session, screaming into her comm. unit, Inara had docked and had decided not to come out, annoyed that once again her business was interrupted by one of Mal's jobs. 'What did I miss?'

Even though Inara had asked the question, Mal didn't look at her with the answer, instead talked to everyone in general, purposely ignoring her. 'Not so much a prisoner, more like a psychotic, temporary guest. Better if he stays in one place for our sakes.'

'That's the understatement of the year…' Jayne muttered in between bites.

'Anyways, no need to fret.'

Inara was still full of questions. 'What happened at the Docks that made us take on a guest?'

'Just a bit of trouble, a misunderstanding.'

'No, wait,' Jayne butted in again. '_That_, was the understatement of the year. That other thing was a close second though.'

'Anyway, that's the reason we're momentarily hiding out in this fine establishment,' he said nodding to a window which revealed a sweeping view of the junkyard.

Inara kept searching. 'What kind of trouble?' When she noticed Mal's injured arm, she asked with sudden worry, 'Your arm. Are you all right?'

Mal looked over at Zoe. She was looking down at the table, not speaking, lost in her own thoughts. She didn't want to be there. Mal knew it. He just hoped that she didn't want to be where he thought she did.

'Independents,' Mal said bluntly. 'Led by a man named Quain.'

'What?' Kaylee asked, now as confused as Inara. 'They was Independents? If they was Independents, why was they─'

'Shootin' at us? They were expecting me to say somethin' different to what I did.'

Mal looked at Zoe again briefly. She seemed to look away from Mal as he said this, as if she disagreed. _You were expecting me to say somethin' different too, weren't you? _

'What did they want?' Simon asked. 'These Independents.'

'They wanted us to help them in a new war. A rebellion 'gainst the Alliance.'

Simon, a boy born on the Core, smiled at this. 'A new war? Against the Alliance? Don't they knew how it ended last time?'

Simon's smiling didn't last long when he saw Zoe sitting beside him, giving him a stare that would have a stopped a bullet.

'They do,' she said evenly. 'Very vividly. But they are ready this time.'

'Ready's a bit of an exaggeration,' Mal added quickly. 'They think they know what they're doing. They're plannin' on attacking the Alliance with all they've got, catch 'em by surprise, knock out the bulk of their military in the first surprise assault. It's very bold, but also very stupid. They thought I'd wanna be in on this plan seein' as how I was…'

'One of them,' Zoe finished, now staring squarely at him.

'Yeah. Exactly.'

Mal held his gaze and their wordless exchange seemed to last a lifetime before Inara asked, 'And you said no?'

'You sound surprised.'

'I'm sure I'm not the only one.'

'Listen, 'Nara, I know what you think of me. You've made that one point abundantly clear. But I ain't that cold _hun dan_.'

'I don't think that at all, Mal,' she said sadly. 'It's just…'

'It's just not like the Alliance is your best friend,' Simon finished for her. 'Or ours for that matter.'

'What, so you all want me to turn this boat 'round and help that nutcase, Quain?'

'No,' Inara said. 'We don't.'

'Good. 'Cause he'd probably kill us all, matter of fact. He don't seem the forgiving type.'

''Specially after you blew half his face off in that 'splosion,' Jayne said chuckling.

'That was a pretty good shot,' Mal agreed, laughing as well. He continued. 'Look. Gettin' rid of the Alliance just means these Independents'll be in charge.' He adjusted his bandage. 'And these ain't the Independents I was part of. These are revenge-driven men that can't deal with losing. They ain't lookin' to bring peace to the 'verse. Quain said it himself. They'll stop at nothin' to get what they think is right, just as the Alliance.'

'I see where the captain's comin' from,' Jayne said, spinning his knife on the table. 'A new power rulin' the 'verse is just as bad as the last. They'll just go corrupt and we'll be fightin' a new fight with more rutters who have bigger sticks.'

Mal smiled. 'Well ain't that a bit o' logic I hear.' Simon laughed at this.

'What? I can't say somethin' makes sense sometimes? 'Sides, there's a war on, there won't be any jobs for me to get payed.'

'And there it is…' Simon muttered with a laugh.

'What?' Jayne asked oblivious. 'What'd I say?'

'Cap'n,' Kaylee said slowly and quietly, as if she was scared to be talking about it, scared at what it meant. 'What will they do if they win the war? Maybe they'll be better than the Alliance. You saw what they've done to us. To Book. To River…'

River, who had sat quietly throughout the whole meeting so far, looked up happily as Kaylee said this and smiled at the mechanic. She was someplace different than the room.

Mal understood why Kaylee would think that. Hell, he'd even considered it too. 'Alliance ain't good,' he began. 'Not even close. But the Independents ain't gonna know what to do with their control over the 'verse once they get it. I saw it in Quain's eyes. All they are focused on is killing the Alliance. They didn't mention no plans on fixing any of the planets and even if they had one, they wouldn't have the resources or the influence to make a difference.

'Chaos. Chaos is somethin' I don't like in my sky, and it is exactly what another war will bring. Remember the casualties of the Unification War? I don't know 'bout anyone else, but I sure as hell don't want to revisit that. The Independents think they can win, but that is a false hope. Alliance numbers and support are just too big. Quain mentioned targeting major cities in the initial attack to weaken Alliance support on the Core. I do not hold to that, no matter what the reasoning. Thousands, even millions, will die for nothin'.

'How long has it taken the Alliance to sort themselves out? Decades. The Rim is still without their attention. But Miranda… what we did on Miranda, that has put the pressure on them to improve. I ain't waitin' decades longer for the Independents to do the same, 'specially when their motivation is revenge, not freedom.

'If anyone disagrees with me you'd best leave this table now.'

No one stirred, not even Zoe, even if it was for fear of being in the minority. Everyone looked at him, his words sinking in, taking their effect. He held a certain control over their room which was governed by respect that he had earnt from all of them. Even if they hadn't agreed, his speech would have made them want to follow him wherever he was going.

Inara looked at him admirably. In that moment she knew that she wanted to be with him for the rest of her life. But she also knew that what she wanted, and what she could have were two separate things.

'I'm impressed, captain,' Simon said, breaking the silence. 'This can't have been an easy decision for you.'

'I ain't lookin' for praise or sympathy, doctor. I just wanna go my own way. But thank you all the same.'

Jayne finished his apple, threw it expertly into the bin beside the kitchen bench. 'So, what are we gonna do? If we ain't with 'em…'

'Right now, we're in the middle of all this. We ain't with the Alliance, nor the Independents. I ain't gonna go warnin' the Alliance that they're gonna get attacked, they'd never take a threat like that seriously. But I also ain't gonna let it happen. I highly doubt Quain can be talked out of his plans so we'll just have to stop him ourselves.'

'Mal,' Jayne said seriously. 'I think now's the time. Time to talk 'bout what that rutter Quain said.'

Mal looked at Jayne. He had almost forgotten about how Quain had revealed to Jayne and Zoe that the crew were fugitives wanted by the Alliance, a fact Mal was doing his best to avoid telling anyone.

Inara caught his eyes. She was maybe the only other person that knew, having guessed it for herself. She smiled warmly, gave him confidence.

He was ready. 'Look, there's somethin' I've been meanin' to tell you all… I guess I just never got round to sayin' it 'cause, well I was, ashamed. I did it I guess for the best o' reasons.' Everyone listened intently. 'After Miranda, the Alliance knew more 'bout us than I thought. More about our involvement, than I thought. Thing is, after they got all kinds of flak from the Rim 'bout creatin' the Reavers, they needed someone to blame. That was us. For the past six months, we've been on the Alliance Most Wanted list, tagged for arrivals on any Core planets and to be taken into custody on sight. They want to blame the whole Miranda thing on us. Say that we made it up for controversy. Havin' two ex-Independents on board wouldn't make their argument all the more believable. That's why we flew the shuttle into Liann Jiun, so we wouldn't get picked up by the feds.'

None of them looked shocked, but Mal knew it was surprising news to most of them.

'I know you all agreed on our decision to broadcast the Miranda wave, but, I'm the captain, and I shoulda known the dangers. I wouldn't blame none of you if you were angry at me for this.' Mal paused, looked around. 'I also don't expect any of you to help me fight the Independents neither. I don't wish to put any of you in danger. After all, this isn't your fight.'

'Damn right it's my fight,' Jayne said. 'Mal, I don't know if you've realised, but I ain't the most trustin' of people...'

'There's a shocker,' Simon muttered.

'We've had our disagreein's. But if there was ever someone I'd trust, it would be you. I know as well as the rest of us that it wasn't just your decision to broadcast the wave, it ain't your fault we're fugitives. I ain't too happy 'bout bein' lied to, but I see why you did it. I'm in.'

'So am I,' Simon agreed. 'I'll do my bit. I'm not so good with a gun…'

'There's a shocker,' Jayne muttered, delighted to get payback.

'But I'll be there to patch you up if need be. I owe you that much.'

'How do you feel about your sister in all this, Simon?' Mal asked looking at River.

'We need a pilot. River's the best there is. And I trust you'll keep her safe.' River smiled at her big brother's praise, and Mal felt good that Simon trusted him.

Mal spotted Kaylee, who looked nervous.

'Darlin',' Mal said looking at her. 'You especially I ain't puttin' in harm's way. If you want, we can fly you home once we fuel up. None of us will think lesser of you.'

Kaylee shook her head, determinedly. 'No. No, cap'n. I ain't goin' nowhere.'

Mal smiled. 'That's my girl.'

Everyone had agreed, except Zoe and Inara. Mal looked at Zoe. She was staring intently at the table. No one but Mal had noticed she hadn't said anything, and he decided not to push her. He would talk to her later, in private.

'Mal, you know I'll help you,' Inara said. Mal hated himself for doubting her, but had been let down by assumptions before. 'But, do we even have to do anything? I mean, do they even stand a chance against the Alliance?'

'Inara has a point,' Simon said. 'Alliance will win in sheer numbers and equipment.'

Mal walked forward with a serious look on his face. 'I ain't too sure on that fact myself. Quain knew about Miranda, somethin' very few know. I don't wanna be the fool expectin' things to be sunshine and daisy's. I got somethin' off Bing, which is actually why I brought you all up here…'

* * *

Mal pulled the piece of paper that Bing had given him out of his pocket and laid it on the table. Everyone leaned into to look at it. It was full of Ranson's messy scribblings that barely formed readable words.

'Is that in code?' Jayne, who at the best of times struggled to understand the written language, asked.

'What…' Inara stammered as she also struggled to read it. 'What does it say?'

'You do have to squint a bit,' Mal admitted, 'but it has the exact building, the level and the room number that Ranson and Bing met Quain in when he told them to contact me about the Liann job. I'm gonna break into that room, see if I can find anything 'bout these new Independents. I wanna know exactly what their plan is, how many ships they have, how many men. I don't like surprises. Then, we can think about our next step.'

'The _Gao Ta_ High Rise,' River recited without looking at the writings on the paper. 'Level one hundred and thirty-two, room 1-3-2-3-5.'

'Oh. Uh, yeah.' Mal looked at the paper again with his head bent to the left. 'I read that completely differently… where'd you say it was again, little one?'

'The _Gao_ _Ta_ High Rise,' Inara replied for River excitedly. 'I know it. It's in the City of Persephone. One of the tallest Alliance buildings on the entire planet.'

'Alliance building?' Mal asked, curious. 'Are you sure?'

'Positive,' Inara replied quickly. 'I met my client there today.'

Mal was now further intrigued. 'So Quain was in an Alliance building' He slowly connected the dots that had been placed before him. 'I had my suspicions, but this just about proves it.'

'You think he has access to the Alliance?' Simon asked, thinking the same thing as Mal.

'I wouldn't doubt it. The clever _hun dan _is probably working from inside the Alliance.'

'That's bad… right?' Kaylee guessed innocently.

Mal nodded. 'Means that he'll know exactly where the Alliance fleets are stationed so he can hit them at the opportune moment. Means they trust him, making it harder for us.'

Mal was getting excited. He paced around the room. 'Okay. Okay, 'Nara, you think you can get us into that building?'

'Yeah,' she said. 'Yeah, I can organise a… a "catch up" with Peterson. You and Jayne can pose as my escorts, sneak inside once I'm upstairs with him.'

Even though Mal didn't appreciate her method, he was happy his plan was working out. 'Do you know the layout of that building?'

'Sure. Same as most Alliance buildings. They don't tend to get too creative.'

'Now there's a bit of luck.'

'No,' River said suddenly, her voice getting louder. 'No. Good before the bad. Not lucky; very bad. Butterfly.'

Jayne stared at the young girl with a raised eyebrow, squirmed in his chair. 'Am I the only one who gets creeped out when she goes all cuckoo?'

'It's okay sweetie.' Kaylee put a re-assuring hand on River's knee, calming her down. 'We saw a butterfly at the Docks,' she informed everyone. 'River thinks it's a bad omen.'

'Well,' Mal said undeterred. 'Let's hope she's wrong for a change. We've enough bad floatin' 'round us all ready.'

Mal snatched up Bing's piece of paper, pocketed it.

'So there it is: Jayne, you an' me'll break into Quain's room, look 'round for somethin' useful. Kaylee, Simon, you fuel Serenity up good, 'kay? I wanna be off-world as soon as we get out of that building. _Dong le ma_?'

'No worries, cap'n,' Kaylee replied.

'Oh and Zoe,' Mal said turning to his first mate. 'Get Bing off my boat soon as possible.'

Zoe nodded. 'Yes, sir.'

Before Mal left, he approached Kaylee, put his hand on her shoulder like an older brother might to his little sister as the others talked amongst themselves. 'You 'kay 'bout before?'

Kaylee thought back to the gunfire of the Independents almost hitting her. 'Yep. Thanks to my cap'n,' she said smiling brightly.

'I got some thanks for you too. Weren't for you, I woulda messed up Bing's face well and good without so much as a hesitation.'

'No you wouldn't have cap'n. You ain't the bad man you pretend to be.'

Mal smiled. 'Wish that were true. Nice to know someone thinks as much though.'

Then, he walked slowly away towards his bunk, disappearing down the ladder. Everyone else stayed behind.

'Bing damn well better not have walked us into another trap,' Jayne said when Mal was out of ear-shot. 'If he does, captain might kill 'im. I've got a mind to myself.'

'Cap'n wouldn't do nothin' of the sort,' Kaylee defended. 'He was just angry before's all. He don't like us almost gettin' shot. Can't say I blame 'im…'

'I don't think Bing would be in the proper state of mind to lie,' Simon said matter-of-factly. 'His reliance on narcotics has turned his brain into that of a small child.'

Jayne looked his knife fondly. 'This is all a load of _pihua_. This whole damn thing. Damn Independents thinkin' they can change things just 'cause they got bad feelin's over a war. Hell, we've all lost somethin' 'fore. My uncle lost his favourite goat when he was a farmer. But you just gotta move on. Find another goat.'

Suddenly, Zoe pushed back her chair violently, almost sending it toppling over. She gave Jayne a look that made even the massive man stop dead in his tracks and drop his knife in fear, holding her gaze for a few seconds, then turned around and walked to her bunk with an angry sway in her steps.

Everyone watched her go, and once she was gone, River looked at Jayne's knife on the table with a curious amount of attention. 'Knives cut. Cut, cut, Cutler. Stab, slice,' – then she turned to Jayne – '… bad.'

Jayne looked at her curiously, not understanding. She didn't care about the strange looks she was getting though. She just picked up the knife strategically and jammed it into an apple in the basket, pulling it out and taking a bite of the crisp, green skin, giggling with childish satisfaction.

* * *

Mal was halfway down the ladder leading into his bunk, his head just visible from the forward corridor, when he heard Zoe coming out of the kitchen, heading for her own room. She was mad, he could tell by the way she walked.

'Zoe,' he said, getting her attention. She hadn't seen him. She stopped and turned around, watched him walk up the ladder and step off of it.

'Yes, sir?' she asked hurriedly. She just wanted to disappear into her bunk, maybe punch something to get her frustration out.

Mal looked at one of his oldest friends. 'You were awful quiet at the table. Anythin' on your mind?'

'No, sir. Plan sounds well thought out enough.'

Having known Zoe for so long, Mal knew when she was being sarcastic out of fun, and when she was making fun of someone with her razor sharp words.

'Look, Zoe. I don't have much choice in all this.'

She sighed, looked away.

'I need to know everything 'bout these Independents before lots of people die. I don't have a very large window of opportunity and that window's closin' very fast. Faster than I'd like.'

'So let's go raid an Alliance building and then we can help them just like they helped us at Serenity Valley.'

Mal was getting angrier. Thoughts of the War did that to his demeanour. 'Zoe. I ain't gonna pretend I don't know what you're thinking. I do. I see it plain. But I wanna know for sure you're just thinkin', not plannin' on actin' as well.'

'What are you trying to say, Mal?'

'What I'm sayin' is that I'd hope that our years of knowin' each other outweighs the seconds you've known Quain.' His voice rose to almost a yell.

Zoe stared at him. 'You want to talk about loyalty, Mal? Well how's this for loyalty. How about, next time someone asks you which side you wish to take, you just remember who was shooting who all those years ago.'

Mal took a breath. He tried to calm himself for Zoe's sake. 'All the blame in the 'verse isn't going to fix anything. The War's over. We ain't soldiers no more.'

Zoe wouldn't hear any of it. He tried a different tact. 'We all miss him, and I know what you're going through, but this ain't the way to avenge Wash.'

'Don't you dare mention his name and then try to empathise with me!' Zoe yelled, coming in close to Mal, forcing him against the wall. The rough dams around her eyes wouldn't hold anymore and the oceans in her eyes began flooding. 'You know nothing about loss, about what I'm feeling. He was my husband. _Mine_! You have no idea what that feels like!'

Mal looked at Zoe with barely contained shock. She was breathing heavily, her fists clenched. He had never seen her so raw with emotion, so bare. Much like himself, she usually hid her emotions, but it had all exploded out of her. He could do nothing but look on as it happened, a spectator to the strange scene.

She stepped away, relaxing her hand, composing herself. She strode over to her bunk, leaving Mal speechless on the wall.

'We both know where I stand with all this,' she said over her shoulder. 'But you won't need to watch your back on this ship. I would never do anything to jeopardise this crew, no matter what I choose to do.' With that, she opened her bunk door, escaped into her room.

Mal watched her leave, then he looked into the kitchen. The whole crew looked back at him through the door, as stunned as he. None of them said a word, maybe out of fear, and he just looked down at his feet, wondering whether Zoe was right. Wondering whether he should have helped the Independents when he had the chance.

Without a clear answer in his mind and a painful doubt clouding his thoughts, he went down into his own bunk, closing the door firmly behind him.

* * *

The _Gao Ta _High Rise was stationed in the City of Persephone, towering above the other sky scrapers, making them look miniscule in comparison.

Flying into the City in Inara's shuttle, dressed in a black suit and opaque sun glasses that would mask his identity to any pesky Alliance retina scanners inside the building, Mal looked at the building with wonder and intrigue, as well as a bit of nervousness. After all, finding one room in the giant tower would be like finding a very tiny needle in the 'verse's biggest haystack, even with the in-depth information Inara had given him about the layout of the floors inside.

Inara flew her shuttle gracefully beside the high rise, at the level one-hundred landing platform. Unlike the metal arm that had greeted Inara's shuttle during her last visit, holding her shuttle beside the building on an extended tongue-like structure, this was a large landing platform that dug into the side of the _Gao Ta, _specifically for small ships. It acted as the public landing area and therefore had less security features than the docking stations that allowed more direct access to specific levels of the building. Inara had decided to land here for that reason.

When the shuttle was stationary on the landing deck, Inara stood walking over to the exit with Mal and Jayne close behind her.

Jayne, who was dressed similarly to Mal, had been given strict instructions during the flight over on how a companion escort was to perform. An escort was quiet and subtle, two things he wasn't.

'Showtime,' he said, squirming uncomfortably in the clothes Inara had given him and going over his instructions quietly for the tenth time.

Inara saw him squirming as she opened her shuttle door. 'Just remember, you don't have to say anything. Just stand by me, and look tough.'

Mal scoffed. 'What do you think we pay him for?'

The day was finishing outside, a brisk breeze brushing at Mal's face as Inara opened the doors leading to the landing platform. It was mostly empty. One or two other shuttles were scattered on the concrete surface. The sun was making its way to the other side of the planet, a warm sunset sky, like a charcoal painting, sat above the sprawling city.

The three of them walked swiftly over to the door leading into the high rise. Inara hit the button beside the door, and a static filled voice asked for her name and business.

'Inara Serra. Here for General Isaac Peterson,' she said curtly.

'He'll be down in a moment, Miss Serra,' the voice said.

In exactly one minute, the door opened, bright white light pouring out, Mal's eyes taking a while to adjust to the sudden blinding brightness. When they did, he saw an older looking man standing purposely in front of Inara, flanked by two Alliance soldiers.

_So this is your client, _he thought, immediately deciding he disliked the man. Whether it was from jealousy or from genuine distrust, Mal wasn't too sure. He certainly didn't consider himself the jealous type most of the time, but Inara had always made him do things he often didn't.

Inara approached Peterson, their embrace bringing him back to the job. 'Isaac!' she exclaimed joyfully, giving her client a strong hug. 'You look even better than this morning.'

'Oh that's precious,' Mal whispered to Jayne. Even though it was all an act, it was like a kick in the gut for Mal to watch. This man payed Inara for her time and he got more affection from her than Mal did. Nevertheless, he stared forward, acted his part.

'And you the same, my dear,' Peterson said kissing her hand. 'Although I would have thought it impossible for you to improve, especially in such a short amount of time.'

'You are too kind. I am so sorry we had to cut our meeting short, but there was a bit of trouble down at the Docks and my ship didn't want to have me in any chance of danger.'

'Ah yes,' Peterson said. 'I heard about the shootings myself. Terrible, terrible luck. I am so glad no one was hurt, and that you could find time in your schedule for me so soon after.'

He smiled greasily. Mal felt sick listening to their charade of fakeness.

Inara leant in seductively, working Peterson with her well-tuned abilities, honed with years of experience. 'Shall we… get back to where we left off?'

'Of course,' Peterson said. 'In your shuttle?'

'No, no. It is much too cold out. And I would much rather a change of scenery.'

'I am sure you will find my room most comfortable,' he assured, giving her his arm.

Inara smiled with her big, luscious lips and took his arm. 'Lead the way.'

They both meandered over to the elevator doors which were open and waiting for them. They then dissapeared inside, leaving Mal and Jayne standing alone in the doorway.

'Well that was disgustin',' Jayne spat, relaxing his shoulders, adjusting his jacket to a more comfortable position.

Mal nodded. 'Tell me about it.'

'I thought he paid her to get sexed not to talk.'

'Sometimes I think you an' me talk entirely different languages,' Mal said incredulously.

Jayne looked up at the ceiling. 'You see the security cams?'

'I surely do.'

'They're pointed at the elevators.'

'Uh-huh. That makes things a mite more difficult, now doesn't it?' With the cameras focused on the elevators, they would be spotted if they tried to the use the elevators to get to a level of the building they weren't meant to be, which could blow their cover.

There were too many people on this level, so they couldn't disable the camera without being spotted.

'The stairs,' Mal said, remembering Inara's descriptions. 'There's a central stair-well we can use.'

Gesturing for Jayne to follow, Mal walked over to the stair-well door.

'Hey.' A guard further down the corridor spotted them, ran over. 'Hey! You two! Where do you think you're going?'

'Just lookin' for the bathroom,' Mal said.

'Why don't you just use that fancy companion love box outside?'

'We're under strict orders from her honour not to enter her private shuttle,' Jayne said quickly, sounding all manner of professional. Mal gave him a curious look, always finding himself surprised by Jayne's selective intelligence.

'Well, the elevators over there.' The guard pointed to the elevator doors.

'No need for that,' Mal said. 'Got me flight legs. Need the exercise.'

The guard seemed to think it over. 'All right. Take the stairs two levels up, it's the third door on the left. Don't go off wandering.'

Mal forced a smile. 'Thanks.'

'Wait!' the guard exclaimed suddenly as Mal went for the door. Mal stopped, turned to face him. The guard stepped forward, patted Mal down for any weapons. He was clean. He moved on to Jayne, found something in his jacket pocket.

'What's this?' the guard asked taking out a tiny metallic device.

'My camera,' Jayne answered. 'I… uh, enjoy Alliance architecture.'

Mal suppressed a laugh.

The guard inspected every inch of the camera. It was too small to be hiding any known weapon. 'Carry on,' he said finally, handing back the device.

Jayne took it, pocketed it.

Mal thanked the guard again, then he looked at Jayne and opened the door to the stair-well. 'Come on Clive, we'd best not loiter, place like this.'

They both went in and shut the door behind them, seeling the guard out.

'Nosy little _gao yang zhong de gu yang_,' Mal commented as he began the climb.

'Clive?' Jayne asked behind him.

'First thing came to my head.'

'You couldn't have thought somethin' more manly than Clive?'

Mal looked over his shoulder. 'You were never taught irony as a child, were you, _Jayne_?'

'Sure. Irony… like… like a gun.'

'Remind me next time not to complicate our conversations,' Mal said smiling to himself.

Jayne mumbled something under his breath as Mal hit the next landing.

It was dark in the stair-well, a rectangular empty section running up the high-rise. Only a few small lights dotted the walls keeping the space from being plunged into complete darkness. Not many people found a need to use stairs anymore, hence the reason there were no cameras in here, just like Inara had said. That would just be a waste of money. The only reason the stair-well even existed was for Persephone's winters where lightning storms were frequent and known to attack the large high-rise, knocking out power to the elevators. Even then, most people would rather get a private shuttle from their room to their destination rather than walk. That was just unsophisticated.

Level 132, the level Ranson and Bing had met Quain in, was still a while to go yet. Mal began bounding up the stairs two at a time, not eager to over stay his welcome.

'Pick up the pace,' he ordered Jayne.

'Yeah, yeah,' Jayne replied, breathing heavily. 'Don't rush me.'

* * *

The sound of a crashing ship the shape of a bug woke River up.

It wasn't a good way to wake up from a nap, but River adjusted quickly as she always did. She was used to startling dreams.

She was sitting alone in the bridge, the vastness of the junkyard outside the windscreen calming her. All the ships that comprised the junkyard were damaged and had painful stories, just like her. She felt oddly at home; much more so than she felt in the pristine and perfect City of Persephone.

_Persephone. _A pretty pink butterfly landed on River's finger as she remembered the one that she had met at the Docks. She watched its wings flutter in a beautiful mix of warm colours as it gently rested on her skin, its tiny legs scratching lightly at her knuckle.

River smiled.

'Hey there.' The bug pounded its wings harder, lifting into the air and flying around the small room in repetitive circles. River traced its movements with her eyes until it again landed on her finger.

'Why are you here, little bug?' she mumbled. All of a sudden, with no sign of warning, a flash of light blinded River, scaring her, crowding her with nothing but its brightness. She screamed and felt something hit her head.

As the light subsided, River found herself lying on the cold hard floor of the bridge. She had fallen from the pilot's chair. The butterfly had gone, dissapeared. Or had never been. She could never tell.

'Bad,' she told herself. 'Butterfly. Bad, bad, bad!'

Voices whispered in her ear as she lay on the ground, echoing in her head. They sounded like her brother, Simon, and Kaylee. They were talking about something, something River couldn't understand. The voices were there, but faint.

'Simon?' she said, expecting him to answer back. But there was no answer.

What was he saying? She couldn't make it out, he was talking so quietly. It sounded as if… as if he was telling her to come to him.

'But I don't know where…' she said to the empty room.

She felt a stinging of pain in her arm, like a needle was entering her skin.

'The infirmary,' she decided quickly.

Picking herself off the ground, jumping up like a cat with a dancer's precision, she stepped out of the bridge, walked alone through the forward corridor, the voices slowly getting louder with each step as if she was getting closer to them.

As she walked,, she heard crying. Behind her.

She span on her heel, found no one there. But the crying persisted. Not crying heavily, but sobbing. Sad sobbing.

River looked at the bunk that was plain. All the other bunks had labels with the names of the owners, some decorated, some less so. The one without any was Zoe's. The sobbing became louder as she approached the simple metal door. Touching the door, she felt a rush of emotion flow through her. From her arm, it flowed directly to her hear, burning with a feeling she had never felt before. Loss.

'No!' she exclaimed, retracting her arm sharply. 'Not mine! Hers…' A single tear streaked down her face, and she brushed it aside, continued to walk towards the infirmary.

As she came to the kitchen, River heard the crying again, beckoning her back to the door. 'I don't want it!' she screamed at the door that wouldn't leave her alone. The sound of the sadness dissipated in soft ripples that faded into nothing.

Turning back around, River bumped into a familiar figure. An Alliance Operative she hadn't seen in a long time.

'Hello River,' the dark skinned man in the blue outfit said. He was holding a sword in his hand, her name inscribed down the sharp end of the blade. Suddenly, the man's friendliness vanished and he savagely thrust the sword at her.

She side-stepped the weapon and grabbed it out of his hands, snatching it away and kicking him in the chest with a straight leg all in one movement. The strong kick sent him flying across the kitchen table, knocking the apples that Simon had bought to the floor.

As he lay on his back, River jumped up onto the table, raised the blade, and jammed it into his stomach, closing her eyes as she did so. The sword entered the Operative's torso, and he dissapeared as quickly as he had come, evaporating in a cloud of mist.

When she opened her eyes, the man was gone and she found herself holding a kitchen knife that was jammed into the body of an apple.

'Not him,' she told herself. She released the small black handle of the knife. 'Gone.'

But if it wasn't him, then who was it? What was the bad thing that she could feel coming? The butterfly that was flying their way.

Beside the bleeding apple was a bunch of torn up pages. Each page had the same thing written in bold letters sitting in the center: Belief.

'You can't go tearing out pages like that, River,' Shepherd Book said, suddenly standing next to her. He picked the pages up, held them in his open palm.

'But it needs to be fixed,' she said innocently.

'It can't be fixed,' the kind old Shepherd said gently.

_It can't be fixed. _

The pages began to form together magically, into the shape of a butterfly.

She felt the wings of the bug brush past her ear as it flew out of the Shepherd's hand, and it continued through the kitchen, to the stairs leading down into the infirmary. River stepped down from the kitchen table, following it curiously.

The voices in her ear continued to get louder. Simon was laughing. So was Kaylee. They were still talking together. Happy for a change.

She got to the bottom of the stairs and saw the butterfly hovering by the door leading to the infirmary.

'Here?' she asked the butterfly from across the room. The bug responded by flying inside the empty room.

River dashed over, entering the blue light. There was no one inside that River could see, but the voice were loud and clear in her head, as if Simon and Kaylee were indeed in there with her.

'Hey _mei mei_,' an invisible Simon said. River snapped around, but again, she saw no one.

'Not now, Simon,' she said dismissing him. 'Butterfly?'

She searched for the coloured wings that eluded her.

She found them, sitting on a book over on the white desk where Simon's medical tools were. River floated over to the book, stood in front of it staring with wide eyes at its cover.

'This?' she asked. Another blinding flash of light. River shielded her eyes from it and again, just like the last time, it dissapeared with the butterfly.

The book's cover looked up at River in the wake of the flash. It was red leather with a green spine. Torn at the corners, with faded writing, it was old, maybe a relic from Earth that was. The faint letters read, "Love at Sea."

'This?' she repeated to herself. Placing her open palm on the book, River felt a small, but painful prick penetrate the skin of her finger, like she had touched a thorn. She took her hand off the book and found a small speck of blood on her index finger. She wiped it off.

'You okay, River?' someone asked. River turned around to see Inara lying down on the operating table.

'Inara?' River said sadly. 'You. Butterfly.'

Inara nodded with a smile on her face. She had needles, lots of needles connected tubes in her arms and one stabbed painfully in her chest. River started seeing numbers, bad numbers, in her mind's eye.

'No,' River exclaimed, shaking her head, suddenly understanding. 'No. No!'

She collapsed to the floor, cupping her head with her hands, rocking back and forth on the balls of her bare feet. A hand touched her back. It felt warm and safe.

'River?' the owner of the hand said. 'It's okay. It's me: Simon.'

River looked up. Her brother was standing above her, his hand on her back. When she looked, Inara wasn't on the operating table anymore, but instead Kaylee, looking at her worriedly. 'You okay, sweetie?'

River looked at her brother, and then at Kaylee. They felt grounded, real. They were definitely there in the room with her and she was content that they wouldn't suddenly vanish like the butterfly, or the man with the sword, or Book.

She turned to the white desk, pointed to the old book. 'Inara's?'

'Yeah,' Kaylee replied. 'Yeah, she leant it to me to read.'

Simon was still concerned. 'Everything okay, _mei mei_?' he asked, helping her off the floor.

'No. No. Sick, sick, sick,' River repeated over and over like a mantra.

'Are you not feeling well?'

River shook her head. 'No, not me, not her… her.'

'I'm fine, River,' Kaylee assure her, slightly confused. 'Really. I ain't sick.'

River looked at the operating table where she had seen Inara lying and then down at her index finger where she had felt the prick from the book. She saw a red mark, a tiny circular cut where a needle may or may not have penetrated her skin. As she looked at the mark, she saw the numbers again, running through her head. The bad numbers.

She looked up, staring at nothing, and repeated the Shepherd's words. 'It can't be fixed. It can't…'

* * *

Mal and Jayne were on level 125 of the _Gao Ta _High Rise.

Jayne spotted the big white painted numbers on the side of the landing as he slumped his feet onto it. 'Seven levels left to go,' he said between deep breaths.

'When did you get so good at math?' Mal asked, the steps not bothering him.

''Bout the same time I got good at usin' my hands to kill a man.'

A loud, hoarse cough emitted from Jayne's dry throat.

'Thought you was fit as a fiddle Jayne, all that workin' out you do.'

Jayne continued to breathe heavily. 'I just ate. 'Sides, I don't get paid to walk up Gorram stairs.'

'Keep your whinin', you won't get paid at all.'

As Mal hit the landing for level 131, he saw a pair of Alliance guards descending from the next level. They met each other half way up the stairs, stopped in front of each other.

'You got someplace to be, gentlemen?' one of the guards asked.

'Yeah,' Mal said evenly. 'We have a meeting with Mr. Quain, level 'bove this one.'

He hoped that his gamble had paid off.

The guard stared at Mal, then at Jayne. 'You boys got identification? Level 132 is Alliance personnel only.'

'No, we're just visiting.'

'Well you aren't going to get to your meeting, I'm afraid.'

This wasn't going well. Mal needed an out. 'We'll give Mr. Quain a call, see if he can come meet us and let us in.'

The guard clearly wasn't convinced, but he let Mal and Jayne continued up the stairs, both him and his partner stepping aside to allow then access.

Mal and Jayne hurried past, the guards watching every move they made. When they were out of sight, on the landing for Level 132, Mal looked at Jayne.

'They're probably calling for back-up right now, aren't they?'

Jayne nodded. 'That's what I'd do.'

Mal rolled his eyes. 'It's never easy, is it?'

Then, as he ran back down, Jayne vaulted himself over the railing of the stairs, tackling the second guard as he fell to the Level 131 landing. Before the first guard could do anything, Mal was beside him, grabbed him by the side of his head, and slammed it into the side of the wall with the momentum from his descent.

The guard Jayne had crash tackled was on the floor and Jayne punched him three times in the face to knock him out, his nose crunching under the impact of Jayne's massive fists.

Beside the collapsed guard, Mal was holding the first guard in a choke hold, but the guards arms were flailing around, knocking Mal in the face.

'Jayne, Jayne!' he exclaimed, trying to avoid the wild blows. 'Grab his Gorram arms!'

Jayne rushed over, held the first guards wild arms as Mal compressed his trachea with a tight elbow. In a few seconds, the guard had passed out, and Mal let him fall beside his partner with a metallic thud.

He looked down at the guard who Jayne had taken out, his nose bleeding. 'Three punches?'

'Just to be sure,' Jayne explained.

Mal bent down and grabbed the first guard by the arms. 'Grab his legs,' he instructed Jayne. 'That door had a fingerprint scanner I doubt will be kind enough to let us in.'

Jayne did as he was told, and together they carried the man up the stairs. When they got to the Level 132 door, Mal pulled the man's hand up to the fingerprint scanner, pressed his limp index finger down on the pad, and hoped the doors would open for them.

The guard, luckily, had access to this level, and the door unlocked for them.

The first door on the left was a maintenance closet, small and cosy for brooms and mops. Mal placed then helpful guard inside while Jayne went and fetched the other one. Once both were locked away in the closet, and Mal and Jayne had relieved them of their weapons, they were free to roam around Level 132. No one would question their presence here as if they had made it through the secure doors, they were meant to be there.

'That closet gonna be enough to keep 'em hidden?' Jayne asked. 'They won't be knocked out long.'

'We ain't too long here. We'll be in and out 'fore anyone even glimpses 'em.'

Mal took out Bing's piece of paper. They were both standing in a long, wide corridor. It seemed to continue down for a few meters, locked rooms on the left, a floor-to-ceiling window showing a glorious view of the city on the right. The room Ranson and Bing had been taken to was room 132-35. The closest door to Mal was labelled 132-01. The one beside that door was labelled 132-02 and the row of rooms continued in that fashion.

'Come on,' he said, starting down the corridor. 'The rooms this way.'

'Better be somethin' in there. I'm not riskin' my life in this place for nothin'.'

'Oh yeah, and I'm just here for some _cong bing youxi_.'

They made their way to the end of the corridor, passing someone casually as they went, and took a sharp turn left into another corridor. This one had doors lined on both sides. The doors on the left were even numbered, while the doors on the right were odd. Halfway along the left wall were the elevator doors.

Room 132-35 was the second door from the last on the right side, and above it, on the opposite wall, was a security camera. None of the other doors had any cameras focused on them however, something Mal thought was odd.

He looked around. There was no on in sight. This camera, they could handle.

'Wanna see to that?' he said to Jayne, who nodded and took his camera out of his suit pocket. Manoeuvring himself directly below the security camera, hidden under its blind spot, Jayne got his small camera ready.

'You do know how to use that, right?' Mal asked, as he guarded the corners of the corridor.

'Don't try an' make me look stupid, Mal,' Jayne said indignantly. 'You just point, and shoot. Ain't rocket surgery.'

Underneath the camera which whirred and buzzed with electronic life, Jayne lifted the small camera in his hands above the small wall-mounted machine, placed it on top of it, and pressed the button to take the photo.

'It ain't workin',' he said frustratedly as he tried the button a second time. 'D'you put the batteries in 'fore we left?'

'Other button, Jayne,' Mal muttered.

Jayne brought the camera back down to his eye level, looked at it briefly, then placed it back on top of the security camera.

'I knew that…'

He pressed the right button this time, and the camera took a photo of the same image the security camera was seeing. He checked the photo on the high-resolution screen.

'Nice and pretty?' Mal asked.

'As my muscular buttocks.'

Mal guessed that meant it was, as he had never seen, nor intended on seeing, Jayne's features.

'That's an unhealthsome fascination of yours, you do know that?'

Kaylee had instructed Jayne on how to loop the image from the hand-held camera to the security cam. He simply had to unplug the chord connecting to the camera to the wall console, which relayed the information to the security room somewhere in the building, and then plug it into his own handheld camera. That would constantly replay the image of the empty corridor, meaning that Mal and Jayne could break into the room undetected, as good as ghosts.

Mal watched him do all this, and headed for the 132-35 door when he had finished.

'Hope that worked,' Jayne said.

'Let's not wait to find out…'

The door leading into the room was locked electronically. It too, needed a fingerprint to be opened.

'You want I should go get the guards, use their fingers again?'

Mal shook his head. 'No. No that won't work. This room's private, needs a specific fingerprint. Gonna have to─' he pulled the thin metal cover jacket off the panel to reveal the wiring beneath '─hack into this somehow.'

'D'you know how to do that?' Jayne asked, making sure no one was coming around the corner.

'Can't be too difficult.'

Mal started fiddling with some of the wires. After a few seconds, Jayne simply pushed Mal aside, grabbed a handful of the wires and yanked them out. The door slid open.

Jayne dropped the handful of wires, took out his gun walked into the room cautiously. 'Waitin' makes me nervous.'

Mal stared into the open doorway, shocked. 'Shiny.'

He entered the room after Jayne, ready to find some evidence.

* * *

Alone together in room 132-35, Mal and Jayne began searching the room.

It was moderately sized, an office where desk work was done and not much more. It was dark, no natural light lit the room and even then, the small lamp on the desk and the lone light in the ceiling were dim at best. Nothing else filled the room besides the desk, giving Mal and Jayne less to look through. Everything was perfectly placed, like no one ever came here.

'Check the desk,' Mal told Jayne.

Jayne walked over and started looking through all the notes, pulling out all the drawers, unbinding all the folders.

'It's all just business scribbles,' Jayne said. 'Nothin' 'bout no wars.'

Mal glanced down at his watch. 'Keep looking. We don't have long here. We need to be back at the shuttle when Inara is.'

As Jayne kept searching, Mal walked over to a safe on the left wall. It was a simple three-twist safe, one he had seen many times before. A professional, it didn't take him long to crack it.

Inside the metal box, Mal found a single object: a small book with a thin spine. Mal took the book, flicked through its pages. Inside, were notes, like a diary, written with faded letters, like it had been written a long time ago. Mal didn't read everything, but everything he did read was about the War.

'We have a winner,' he said to himself, shutting the safe door.

He turned to Jayne. 'Hey, Clive. You found anything?'

'Very funny.'

'Well?'

'Yes, I have,' Jayne said as he pulled something out of the computer that sat on the desk. 'His hard drive. Should have somethin' on it.'

'I love how patient you are.' Mal pocketed the small book he had found, turned for the door. 'Okay. Time to make like a─'

A noise. The two spun around, guns up at a door that was hidden in the shadows at the back of the room. Neither of them had seen it in the dark light. But someone was behind it.

'Did you check that door?' Mal asked, holding his aim.

'Didn't see no door.'

Another noise. A mumble that barely escaped from the mystery room beyond the door. They shared glances and approached it together.

Mal put his ear to the door. There was definitely someone in there.

He nodded to Jayne. 'Open it. But, uh, this time… do it quietly.'

Jayne nodded back. He gripped the door handle in one hand, held his stolen pistol in the other, gave the handle a sharp turn, pushed it open, and rushed in gun first.

Mal, still in the office, heard the shrill scream of a girl before he followed Jayne in. As he entered the new room, he saw Inara, covering herself with the covers of the bed she sat in, sitting next to Isaac Peterson, whose face was covered in lipstick.

'Mal?' Inara exclaimed. 'What the hell are you doing?'

Mal looked at Inara for a moment confusedly, and then at Peterson, who was reaching for his bedside table.

'Whoa, don't even think about it, grandpa,' Mal said pointing his gun at the commander. 'Show me your hands. Don't want no games now.'

Peterson raised his hands above his head. They were empty.

'Mal,' Jayne whispered. 'What's goin' on?'

Mal held his aim on Peterson, who was strangely smiling. 'Don't rightly know myself.'

He stared at Peterson, the pieces slowly falling into place. ''Nara,' he said. 'Get dressed. Now.'

'Mal, what's going─'

'I said now!'

Inara slipped on her dress and got out of the bed.

'Mal,' Jayne said. 'What the hell are we doin'? This ain't exactly the place to─'

'Stow it, Jayne.'

Jayne hadn't realised it yet, but Mal certainly had. This was the personal room of the owner of office 132-35, the office where Ranson and Bing had been asked to contact Mal to do the job for the Independents. Mal had expected it to be Quain's room, the man from the Docks. But this wasn't his room.

It was Peterson's room.

Peterson was the leader of the new Independents, Mal knew it as he looked at him now. He could see it in his face, in the way he held himself. Quain was just a pawn, or even a lieutenant.

Peterson had expected, probably known, Bing would tell Mal where he had met Quain, all to lead them right here, straight into the spider's web.

As Inara walked over, Mal shielded her with his body, kept his gun trained on Peterson who stayed in the bed. Mal cursed himself for putting Inara in danger and held her hand tightly behind his back.

'I've got to say, Malcolm,' Peterson spoke was the confidence of a leader, 'I didn't' think you would make it here this quickly. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad. I've been waiting to meet you… in person.'

Mal's eyes narrowed. 'How do you know me?'

'I know a lot about you, Malcolm. More than you know yourself.'

'You think you're so clever. That you know everything. That why you're gonna try and kill the Alliance? Huh? 'Cause you know better?'

'It is very surprising to me that a man such as yourself, and with your past experiences, would not want to join a cause such as this.'

'Well, I'm a surprising man.'

Peterson laughed at that. Mal didn't see the funny side.

'So what, you their leader, huh? What should I call you? King? Emperor?'

'I am merely the Independents voice and guide. Call it what you will.'

'Wait, he's the─' Jayne stammered.

'Mal, I'm so sorry,' Inara said quietly, staring with shock at the man she had just slept with. 'I had no─'

'You weren't to know,' Mal said quickly. 'I'm just sorry I didn't.'

As Mal looked at Peterson, he only felt his anger rising. 'Call your men downstairs. Tell them the companion is coming back to her shuttle. You try anythin' funny…'

'You going to shoot me, Malcolm?' Peterson asked, staring at the gun his face without fear.

'I'm considerin'. Callin' your men like I asked won't hurt your chances though.'

Peterson did as he was told, and called the guards downstairs on his radio. Then he put the radio down, and locked confident eyes with Mal.

Mal stared back at Peterson, the undercover Independents leader, in the eyes. Then, he turned to Jayne. 'Take 'Nara back down to the shuttle. Keep her close.'

'You're coming with us,' Inara said.

Mal didn't look at her, still angry at himself for unknowingly letting her be handed over to the Independent's leader. 'I'll catch up.'

'But Mal…'

'I'll catch up,' he repeated forcefully.

Jayne patted Mal on the back reassuringly and left the room with Inara. Mal waited for the bell of the elevator opening and closing before he turned back to Peterson, sure that Inara and Jayne were safely inside it.

Then he turned to Peterson.

* * *

Mal tossed Peterson his pants which had been on the floor. 'Put them on, get out of the bed.'

'In that order?' Peterson asked jokingly.

'Do not tempt me further,' Mal warned, deadly serious. He was in no mood to be further played.

In fact, the only mood he felt was fury. He was ready to explode. Peterson had lead Mal straight into a trap, using Inara to get closer to him and his crew, and Mal hadn't even seen it coming. The fact Inara had been used by the pathetic sack of skin in front of him was bad enough, but he also felt the guilt having let it happen. He should have known, been able to protect her.

Peterson put his pants on and got out of the bed at his own pace, in no rush.

'You've got somethin' on your cheek,' Mal said looking at the red lipstick that coated Peterson's skin. Inara's lipstick.

'She is a feisty one,' Peterson laughed, rubbing the redness off of his face. 'Gone?'

'Nah, you missed a spot.' Suddenly Mal lashed out and slammed the butt of his pistol into Peterson's face, knocking him across the bed.

Mal paced around. 'That's for takin' advantage of 'Nara.'

Peterson sat up calmly and patted his injured cheek. He didn't seem too effected by the brutal hit. 'It's not exactly taking advantage of someone if they enjoy it.'

'Shut your mouth or I will shut it for good.'

Peterson laughed. 'You know what's funny, sergeant?'

'Don't call me that…'

'What's funny is that you're only angry because you didn't see this coming. And you are not a man of surprises as you say you are. You are a man who likes to keep things the same. That's why your world was so shaken when the War ended. That's why you still fly around in that rust bucket you call a ship. It's all you know. And that is also why you are scared to join my cause. Fear of change.'

Mal cocked his pistol and pushed it against Peterson's forehead. 'Stop pretendin' you know me. You ain't got the faintest.'

'I'm not pretending, sergeant. You can't silence the truth. Knowledge is power and I have much more power over you than you do over me.'

'I find that logic interestin', as to I'm the one holdin' the gun. And you wanna know a truth, Peterson? Next time you call me sergeant, I'm gonna use it.'

Peterson smirked. He seemed to be enjoying this. 'On that subject,' he said, 'don't call me Peterson. I hate that name. If we're going to get familiar you should know my real name and not the one that the Alliance made me take up when they won and poisoned this great 'verse. Call me Cutler. Frank Cutler.'

'Why don't I just call you a dirty _hun dan _and we'll both be on our merry.'

'Malcolm, you can point that little pistol at me all night and play the tough guy, but I know you are not going to shoot me.'

Mal's knuckles went white as he gripped the gun harder. 'Why not? It'd sure save me anymore o' these traps, and from more o' your pretty speeches?'

'Because you're not an executioner, Mal.' Then, Peterson, or Cutler as he said he was, looked over Mal's shoulder and smiled. 'And because you don't have enough bullets to waste on me.'

Mal turned, looked through the doorway leading into Cutler's office to see three Alliance soldiers entering from the corridor.

'Hey!' the lead one shouted as he noticed Mal. The soldier went for his rifle.

Mal acted quickly, sliding beside the separating door on his knees, he hit the wall, bringing him to a stop, and kicked the door closed with straight legs. As it shut, a hail storm of bullets erupted out of its body.

'Gorram it!' he shouted as he covered his head from the rain of splinters that showered down on him as the barrage of bullets continued to shred the wooden door.

He stood up from the wall, brushing bits of wood from his hair, and walked over to Cutler, who was laughing maniacally at the scene.

'You know what,' Mal said. 'You're right about one thing: I ain't gonna kill you. But you get in my way, try and trap me an' mine like this again, I sure as _pihua_ will.'

'You say this like you are going to escape me, sergeant.' Cutler smiled greasily.

'Oh I will. And before I leave, I do have one bullet just for you and it ain't a waste.' Then Mal pointed his gun into Cutler's right leg and fired. Cutler screamed in agony as the flesh on his leg was sliced open by the bullet that then buried itself deep into the muscle beneath.

'Enjoy,' Mal smiled, leaving Cutler grasping at his bloodied and torn-up leg on the bed.

Mal approached the side of the door again, took cover beside it. He looked through one of the many bullet holes that marked wooden face. The three soldiers were all pointing their guns at the door waiting for Mal to come out.

'Commander Peterson!' one called. 'Are you all right in there?'

He decided to strike first. Pointing the barrel of his gun through the hole, Mal pulled the trigger and hit one of the soldiers in the chest.

He was back besides the wall before the two remaining soldiers began firing wildly at the door again, a few inches away from the incoming bullets.

There was another pause in the assault of gunfire and Mal considered his options.

He checked the ammo in the stolen pistol. It had about three rounds left. He would be lucky to take out two soldiers with assault rifles with three bullets, no matter how skilled a shot he was.

There was no way out of the room other than the door. He could use Cutler as a human shield; the soldiers wouldn't shoot their commander. As he went to grab Cutler, the door open a fraction and a smoke grenade was thrown in, which erupted on the floor beside him in a big, billowing white cloud that coated the room in a thick fog that stung at his eyes and chocked his throat.

Covering his face with his arm, he saw the window next to Cutler's bed just before the smoke covered it. He aimed, fired two shots, and the glass shattered. When he turned back around, he saw the barrel of one of the soldier's assault rifles poking out from the other side of the door.

Mal quickly shouldered the door, shutting it on top of the soldier's arm. Behind him, the smoke was filtering out through the smashed window.

Able to see slightly clearer, Mal tried to grab the rifle but the soldier wasn't letting go. He forced the door harder against the soldier's arm, whose grip loosened enough for Mal to snatch it out from him. Releasing his push on the door, Mal pushed the butt of the assault rifle into its owner's face.

The soldier was momentarily stunned and while he held his face in pain, Mal pushed him into his partner. He fell to the ground clumsily, and the soldier Mal had pushed him into was surprised by a quick burst from Mal's gun that hit him in the lower legs, sweeping him off his feet.

The soldier on the ground who Mal had stolen the gun from, reached for his pistol, but Mal stepped on his hand and thrust the gun into his face again, knocking him out.

Breathing heavily, Mal left the two injured soldiers and one possibly dead, and ran outside into the corridor. Heading left for the stairs he had come from, he was stopped when he heard voices and footsteps.

'No, no, no!' he told himself. 'Definitely not that way.'

He ran back down the corridor. More people were coming from the other side. He was trapped.

'_Zao gao_…'

The elevator he decided. It was the only way he could go. He ran over to the metal doors, thread his fingers through the gap between them and pried them open. They parted to reveal the dark elevator shaft.

He took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around his hands. The elevator was twenty floors down: it wouldn't get to him in time.

He would have to take the express route.

The soldiers rounded the corner. 'Stop right there!' one yelled.

Mal took a deep breath and looked down the 132 floor drop. 'Why do I keep gettin' myself into this _pihua_…'

Then, as he heard a burst of gunfire, Mal jumped forward, towards the elevator chords that dangled in the darkness. Grasping them with his hands which he had covered in his thick jacket, bullets began to slam into the walls all around him.

'Whoa!' The sudden gunfire made him loosen his grip instinctually, and he began to slide down the chords like a fireman would down a pole. His suit jacket took the friction away from his hands, but he could still feel the heat through the fabric as he travelled down the rectangular, metal box of the elevator shaft that lead him down into a deep, dark abyss with speed. His arms ached as they strained to hold on. His muscles burned like a flame had been lit underneath his skin. His shoulder felt like they were going to separate from his body under his weight. He could do nothing but grit his teeth and do his best to keep hanging on.

As he continued further down the shaft, the shape of the stationary elevator began rushing up at him.

'Whoa, whoa, whoa!' he exclaimed, gripping the elevator chord tighter to slow his rapid descent. 'Stop! Stop! Stop now please!'

He began to slow, and came to a full stop just a meter above the elevator. From there, he let go with tired arms, and fell to the top of the elevator on his back.

'Ow,' he muttered in the deafening silence.

After a five second rest, he heard the elevator doors in front of him open to reveal an armed soldier standing in the space.

'I've found him!' he cried. 'Reynolds is here!'

Mal grabbed the rifle which was slung around his shoulder and brought it up before the lone soldier had a chance. He aimed for a non-lethal shot to the arm, but the shot became completely non-lethal when it landed into empty metal behind the young kid. Mal would later blame it on the fact that he was lying down and that that made for a hard shot, but at the time, the soldier jumped out of the way, taking cover beside the open doors, which gave Mal enough time to kick open the grating on the top of the elevator and quickly slip inside.

Inside the elevator, Mal keyed his radio.

'Jayne, you there?'

'_Hearin' you loud and clear here, Mal. Where the ruttin' hell are you? Alliance folk've gone crazy down here. We need to be outta here, now_.'

'Change of plans,' Mal said, opening the elevator door, he checked either side of the corridor outside the elevator for any hostiles with a quick aim of his gun. No one was waiting for him. 'I can't get to you. I'm on Level 112. Bring the shuttle.'

'_Wait, what? Mal_─'

Mal turned the radio off. He had no time for explanations. He had to keep moving. He didn't feel like being caught by the Alliance and being tortured for treason today.

Just like on Level 132, there was a floor-to-ceiling window beside the corridor to the right of the elevator. Mal ran to that corridor and took cover by the corner.

Peeking out over the corner, he saw more soldiers burst out from the stairwell. Maybe five.

'_Zao gao_…' he breathed, checking his ammo. 'Come on, Jayne… hurry up.'

* * *

The five soldiers were halfway down the hall when Mal saw Inara's shuttle rise up in front of the wall of windows, her and Jayne in the cockpit of the small craft.

Mal didn't have much time.

He aimed his gun at the window from the cover of the wall, fired half a clip into it. It dissolved under the force of the bullets and Mal began into a run. Firing down the length of the hall towards the five approaching soldiers, not necessarily trying to hit them but trying to keep them from shooting at him, he continued to run towards the destroyed window.

When he was a few steps away from it, he ran out of bullets, dropped the gun and got ready to jump.

Inara had spun the shuttle so that it was parallel with the building. Jayne was standing in the open doorway, ready to catch Mal.

'Come on! I got ya!' Mal heard Jayne yelling in the wind.

As Mal hit the edge of the broken window, the five soldier began firing, the windows beside him shattering into tiny fragments of shining pieces that glittered all around him. He ignored them, focused all his energy on jumping forward.

He planted his foot, pushed down hard, propelled himself forward, reaching out with his arms. Sparks of bullet impacts lit up the exterior of the shuttle as Mal seemed to fly forward, 112 floors above the ground.

Jayne leant forward, outstretching one hand while holding onto the shuttle with the other. Mal searched for Jayne's hand in the air, desperately grasping for it. He found it, locked his fingers with Jayne's, and the strong mercenary pulled the captain into the shuttle.

'Inara, go! Go!' Jayne called into the cockpit as he closed the shuttle door hard, shutting out the gunfire.

Inara obeyed and quickly hit the thrusters, shooting the shuttle forward and away from the shooting Alliance soldiers.

Mal lay on the floor of the shuttle as Inara steered it back towards Dirt Town to dock Serenity. He was breathing heavily, lying with closed eyes, trying to steady his racing heart.

'How is he, Jayne?' Inara asked from the cockpit.

'He's fine,' Jayne said with a laugh.

Mal nodded. 'Yeah, he's fine. A mite sick of gettin' shot at though.' He strained his neck to look at Jayne. 'Thanks for catchin' me.'

'Any time, Cap'n. You can buy me a beer.'

'I will buy you several,' Mal said with nervous laughter, the happiness an effect of coming close to death.

'So was Peterson really…' Inara asked.

'Yeah,' Mal replied, suddenly serious. 'Yeah. Name ain't Peterson either. Least not his real one. Said it was Cutler.'

Jayne looked down at Mal and asked, with maybe too much interest, 'D'you kill 'im?'

Mal shook his head.

He got up off the floor, walked solemnly into the cockpit. 'Listen, 'Nara…'

'I know what you're going to say,' she said, not looking at him. 'Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. It was my decision to meet Peterson… or Cutler, again. None of us knew.'

Mal said nothing, looked at Inara. He felt like hugging her, making sure she was okay. But that was something he could never do. Instead, he sat himself in the passenger seat, looked at her and said, 'I have no idea what you're talking about. I was gonna say fly straight. You're makin' me dizzy.'

Inara laughed along with him as she steered them towards the junkyard.

**One Day Later…**

Frank Cutler was sitting alone in a hospital room in one of the medical levels of the _Gao Ta_ High Rise when Micayel Quain, his right hand, the man in the white suit from the Docks, entered.

'Micayel,' Cutler greeted. 'You look… like _pihua_.'

Cutler hadn't seen Quain for days. The scarring on the left side of his face from where the generator explosion had burned him was covered in white bandages, but the wound beneath had been weeping, staining the cloth. The doctors, the best in the 'verse, had offered to fix his face, use skin grafts to make it almost perfectly unnoticeable. But Quain had declined. He kind of liked it.

'I could say the same,' Quain remarked. 'What did Reynolds do to you?'

Cutler looked down at his leg, which was hung up by a slung, and began to laugh. 'Shot me. He shot my leg.'

Quain smiled. 'I knew he wouldn't kill you. Doesn't have it in him.'

Cuter tried to sit up but the pain in his leg stopped him. 'Did you check my office?'

'Yes. They took two things: the notebook from your safe and the hard drive from your computer. Nothing to worry about though, the Alliance won't listen to a shred of evidence they have. They're just fugitives.'

Cutler laughed again. 'My notebook? Very clever, Malcolm. Very clever indeed. Where are they now?'

'Our men spotted Serenity breaking atmo shortly after Reynolds's escape. The ships pulse beacon was picked up thanks to Ranson's intel, but there were five signals. A common trick for thieves and smugglers. I sent ships after each signal. We'll have them in a day or two.'

'Very good,' Cutler sighed. 'Hunt them down. But leave them alive. I believe a little payback is in order.'

Cutler shut his eyes, telling Quain he was ready to rest. Before Quain left, he said, 'Sir, we found Bing, Ranson's partner, in Dirt Town, just outside the junkyard there. He was unconscious, with a hand-written sign around his neck, uh, it read: "Take me to the nuthouse". What do you wish to be done with him.'

Cutler kept his eyes closed. 'What do you think we should do, Micayel?'

'Ranson has given us some good intel regarding Serenity. He can't withstand much more interrogation, but there is still information left in him. Bing might be the same.'

Cutler thought it over briefly. 'No. Bing is too unstable and he knows too much. Get rid of him.'

'We could send him to get medical care,' Quain suggested, 'then issue a mind-wipe afterwards.'

Cutler had decided. 'No. Too expensive. No one will miss him.'

Behind Quain, a doctor walked into the room. 'Sorry, sir,' he said calmly. 'No visitors. We need Commander Peterson back to full health as soon as possible.'

'Apologies,' Quain said. 'Goodbye, Isaac.'

Cutler smiled, his eyes still shut. 'Goodbye, Micayel.'


	4. Uninvited Guests

_****So, I guess I should point something out before you read this. This isn't the finished chapter, but instead the first paragraph which I wrote a few months ago after my last chapter. I've been meaning to finish this chapter but haven't found the time until now, and soon I will hopefully start from where I left off (this paragraph). But since I didn't want to keep the (very appreciated) few of you who have "story-alerted" this story waiting, I decided to post this beginning paragraph just to give you something after months of my neglect._

_And one more quick thing, I'll be replacing this file with the final chapter once its done so if you feel like reviewing this but also want to review the final, full chapter when it I post it, feel free to private message me your review for this paragraph. Any feedback is appreciated. _

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**UNINVITED GUESTS**

Barrooms were a funny sort. Meant to be a place to relax and be merry, Mal knew better than most that being in a bar, you were pretty much asking for trouble, no matter if you were on the glorious central planet Sihnon, or the dingiest backwater world you could find that had barely evolved past the initial terraforming and population.

Mal didn't want to accuse Beylix of being that planet, as he thought it an insult to the dingiest backwater world that had barely evolved past its own terraforming. But he knew it was close enough all the same.

Not many people visited Beylix for trips of an enjoyable sort as it was mostly sand, rock and less than inviting citizens.

It did have one redeeming feature however: there was barely any Alliance presence. In fact, Alliance had stopped sending planet inspection crews and even district representatives all together, as they were met with the violence one would expect from a gorilla greeting a zookeeper after years of living in a tiny cage. Except instead of just one gorilla, it was millions, all enraged at overpopulation and an eternal economic slump.

The crew ─ well actually, Mal ─ had picked Beylix as their current point of rest for this lack of presence. After breaking into the _Gao Ta_ High Rise, an Alliance building, and assaulting Alliance personnel, this was, ironically, the safest place to be as the Alliance wouldn't go anywhere near its atmosphere.

The air of the Buckingham Inn was a striking compound of thick cigar smoke and strong alcohol, accentuated by the faint aroma of vomit. The room was covered in a sort of misty haze, the effect of almost every patron sucking on cheap tobacco. The shouts of inebriated gentlemen reverberated in the tiny space, creating a symphony of white noise. It was hot inside, but the air conditioner was turned off. The owners made a lively hood out of peoples thirst, after all.

Mal took a swig of his bottle of beer as he focused entirely on his hand of cards.

'Captain,' Zoe said as she sat opposite him, placing another card delicately on the table. 'Why is it we constantly degrade ourselves, places like these?'

Mal looked up at Zoe. He was glad she was talking to him again, however emotionless and distant that talk happened to be.

'It is a more colourful detour from our otherwise noble adventures.'

'Bit too much colour, you ask me,' Kaylee commented as an intoxicated patron stumbled, rather than walked, past her, doing his best to seduce her with what she guessed was supposed to be a smile.

'Don't mind the drunk man, Kaylee,' Mal said. 'He don't bite.'

'How could he with no teeth?' Jayne grunted as he matched Zoe's card.

Mal looked over his cards again. The crew were sitting around a bench the shape of a horseshoe in the corner furthest away from the ruckus of the bar and closest to the door.

Simon was feeling especially the odd one out in his vest and pristine clothing. 'Mal,' he said, resisting the urge to gag when he opened his mouth to the taste of the stale air. 'Mal, is there a reason _we _need to be here? I don't see what was wrong with us staying back on the ship.'

'Relax, doc. Take in all the culture. Might be good for you.'

The sound of a pool cue breaking in half over some poor patrons back caused Simon to turn around sharply. 'How exactly do you figure?'

Inara leant in close to Simon and said, 'This actually isn't the worse place they've taken me to, believe it or not.' She looked at Mal with a playful smile.

Mal raised an eyebrow. 'Why don't we stop bad-mouthin' the lovely bar and play some cards.'

River turned to Simon. 'This place smells like Jayne.'

Inara and Kaylee laughed amongst themselves.

Ignoring them, Mal put down his hand, confidently declared, 'three cowboys,' and then took all the chips from the centre in open arms.

'Gorram it, Mal!' Jayne exclaimed, throwing his fist down on the table angrily. Simon jumped frightfully at the crashing sound and Kaylee smiled at his uneasiness.

'Calm down, Simon. These people can sense fear.'

'I'm startin' to sense somethin',' Jayne said, shuffling the next set of cards. 'This is my hand.'

'Well, this is my foot,' Mal said, nodding to the ground. 'This is my arm. I can do it too, see.'

Jayne kissed the deck for luck, and dealt the cards out evenly to Mal and Zoe.

'Hey,' Kaylee chirped. 'What is it we did with that passenger o' ours you warned me 'bout, Cap'n?'

'Who, Bing?'

Kaylee nodded.

'I suspect,' Mal said looking at Zoe, 'he's in the place he needs to be. Nothin' more we can do for him.'

Beside Simon, River said almost inaudibly, 'No one can do anything for him now.'

The man with the disturbing lack of teeth came back around to Kaylee's side of the table. He leant in close and she could feel his breath against her neck. 'Hey beautiful,' he slurred. 'You lookin' for some fun out here on the Rim?'

Kaylee was frozen stiff. She didn't know what to say, how to react. Mal and Jayne stood quickly to her defence, pushing their chairs back pointedly. Mal moved the side of his brown coat back to reveal his gun and Jayne held the handle of his knife as a warning.

The whole bar quietened to a whisper as the exciting scent of a fight began to rise.

'What you two gonna do?' the man asked with liquid courage.

He was big and rotund. Mal and Jayne could take him on in a fight easily. Mal would take the head, Jayne would take the large midsection. But the rest of the bar seemed to have already recruited themselves to rotund man's team in the yet-to-come fight. _Must be local_, Mal thought. _I hate locals._

Before anything more happened, Zoe, still sitting, locked her cold eyes with the toothless man's rather distant and empty ones. 'Step away from this table now, or I will end you,' she warned calmly.

There was something deadly in the way that she had said it, and the man backed away quickly, head bowed in submission. 'Sorry, ma'am.'

There seemed to be a collective, disappointed sigh as the chance of a fight diminished and Mal and Jayne sat back down, rather embarrassed that Zoe had outdone them.

'That was a whole new level o' disturbin',' Kaylee said, before thanking Zoe.

River looked at her brother again. '_He_, smelt like Jayne.'

Jayne guessed what the nature of the smell. 'What? Masculine and dashing?'

'More like disgustin' and nausifyin',' Mal corrected.

Jayne's smile faded quickly. 'Just play the cards.'

Two deals of the cards later, one victory for Mal and Zoe each, much to Jayne's annoyance, and a man stood himself up on the bar top at the other end of the room. He held his bottle of ale above his head and banged on it with a bent and rusty spoon to get everyone's attention.

'Hey!' he shouted above the noise of the bar. 'Hey! Ev'ryone listen up!'

'This oughta be good,' Mal muttered, postponing the game.

The speaker had a sway in his stance that could only be caused by the demon drink. Mal was surprised he hadn't fallen off the bar top all ready.

'Listen close ev'rybody! I got me somethin' to say! Somethin' I realised a long time ago.'

He stretched out the word "long" to make his point.

'We here, folk of Beylix─'

At the mention of Beylix, the entire bar, besides Mal and his, let out a mighty roar. Mal had thought right. They were all locals. He hated locals.

'We here folk of Beylix,' the speaker went on, 'have been through many, many hardships! Drought! Famine! Persecution! And I say: no more!'

Another patriotic shout from the bar in agreement. This time, Jayne joined in. Mal shot him a look, and Jayne just shrugged his shoulders innocently.

'Too long have we been shunned by the Alliance! Too long, have we been neglected by them! And I know the secret to our neglect…'

The barroom lulled to a quiet. Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say.

'Independents!' the speaker finally announced.

Mal looked at Zoe. Zoe looked at Mal. They knew what was coming. They had heard it before.

'Them Independents, thought they was fightin' for freedom in the War! But what has it gotten us? Nothin'! Absolutely _tamade_ nothin'! They lost! And now, we here, folk livin' on the Rim, are payin' 'cause of it! The Alliance don't none of 'em help us 'cause we live on the Rim, who those scummy Independents claimed to be lookin' after! Who's with me?'

The entire bar exploded with applause and cheering. The speaker was helped down from the bar top, met with respectful glasses filled to the brim with beer.

'Oh, golly,' Kaylee said. 'Cap'n, should we…'

'Yes,' Mal nodded, standing to leave. 'I think that would be best.'

As Mal and the others went to leave, a voice broke off from the crowd. 'There! Over there!'

'His coat!' another yelled. 'It looks brown!'

'_Liu kou shui de biao zi he hou zi de ben er zi_,' Mal breathed.

The speaker walked over to their table, with an angry mob of patrons behind him stomping along with the grace of a herd of elephants. Soon, they were surrounded and severely outnumbered. _Just for a change of pace,_ thought Mal.

Inara, Kaylee, River and Simon sat down slowly, making themselves as inconspicuous as possible.

'Let's get a look see at your coat, eh.' the man said.

Mal faked ignorance. 'You meanin' me?'

'No, the Queen o' Sihnon. 'Course you!' The speaker lent in close. 'Your coat. It's brown.' Then, he repeated louder, 'It's brown!'

They all seemed surprised, like it hadn't been obvious to the colour of the coat until the speaker had mentioned it.

Mal's mouth went agape. 'Wait. Brown? But the man at the store called it a kind o' mahogany.'

The speaker leant in close to Mal, his disgusting breath almost too disgusting to inhale. 'Are you an Independent?'

Mal stood back, walked casually from their table so that the crew less accustomed to this sort of exercise were safe. The speaker and the crowd of angry patrons followed him, maintaining their coordinated barrier. Zoe and Jayne stayed by his side, ready for his word.

Mal held his bottle of beer by his side, approaching the speaker and smiling widely. 'I think you've got some pretty funny ideas 'bout things of a historical sort, so I'm gonna give you this one chance, to walk away.'

The speaker began laughing loudly, a chorus picking up as the rest of the bar began laughing along with him. When he finally finished his antagonising laughter, he looked back at Mal. 'You are a dirty Independent, ain'tcha?'

Mal kept a level gaze. 'What is it that we call people like this again, Zoe?'

'Stupid, sir?'

'No… well, yes,' Mal caught himself, 'but no, the other thing.'

'_Kong ben dan_?'

'That's the one.'

The speaker was red with anger. Mal had embarrassed him in front of all his newly acquired followers. 'You shoulda walked 'way, Independent.'

'So people keep tellin' me…' Mal said somewhat reminiscently.

A silence hung in the air. The patrons were ready to attack at any minute.

'So…' Simon began back at the table. '_Now_, can we go back to the ship?'

Mal shot Simon a glance. 'Just give us a moment.' Then he commanded Zoe with the simple utterance of her name.

Behind him, Zoe leapt forward, knocked two patron's heads together with a precise clapping motion and kicked another firmly in the chest with the heel of her boot. One swung a wild punch at her head, which she dodged swiftly and came up into his stomach with a powerful uppercut.

Jayne also began fighting, not so much because of his disagreeing on the speaker's thoughts on Independents, as he hadn't fought in the War, but more for the fun of it. He grabbed a nearby patron by the collar, propelled his head into the patron's own, and used him as a human battering ram, forging a path through the crowd that scattered like weightless bowling pins.

While the speaker watched the sudden action unfold, momentarily distracted, Mal quickly brought up his bottle of beer and slammed it on top of the speaker's head. It smashed into pieces and the out-spoken man fell to the ground in a limp slither.

'Sticks and stones, _hwoon dahn_,' Mal said triumphantly over the unconscious man.

But before he could celebrate further, Mal was crash tackled by two men into a nearby wooden table, which gave under the extra weight.


End file.
